


ODST: Helbound

by TheRaginPagan



Series: Saga of the Valkyries [1]
Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-09-17 17:22:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 27,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9335027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRaginPagan/pseuds/TheRaginPagan
Summary: When an ODST squad returns to Earth after four months, they find the planet in the tense final moments of the Human-Covenant War. Underneath the chaos, a hidden legacy threatens to sunder new-forged alliances, and plunge the galaxy deeper into war.





	1. Chapter 1

** November 15, 2552**

**United Nations Space Command space near Mars **

** 1300 Central Standard Time (CST) **

 

The UNSC _Come and Get ‘Em_ drifted slowly through space, the engines glowing a soft, pale blue. The _Charon_ -class light frigate was en route from its previous campaign in which they aided a heavier _Halcyon_ -class cruiser, the _Moonlit Sonata,_ in tactical strikes on several terrorist outposts near Neptune. Like most other Insurrectionists – called “Innies” by soldiers and civilians of the United Nations Space Command alike - the terrorists hid out in dangerous, asteroid-dense areas to cover their movements and set up ambushes on unsuspecting ships.

This guerilla-style tactic made preparation for an attack difficult for the UNSC outposts, forcing them to go on the offense. In the end the solution was simple, if not inelegant; decimate the surrounding asteroid fields, driving Innie forces out with as few civilian casualties as possible. That campaign had been in progress since May of 2552.

August 30th: Mankind's struggle against the Covenant took a dire blow. UNSC forces in all regions were alerted to the destruction of Reach. All available ships in the Epsilon Eridani system were immediately called back to the fortress world. Ships in the remaining colonies were put on emergency status, and ordered to return to the nearest colony world. UNSC forces in the Sol system were to return immediately to Earth; a priority precaution should the Cole Protocol fail.

The Insurrectionist Campaign within the Sol system was immediately halted. The Faster Than Light drivers of the _Come and Get ‘Em_ were undergoing repairs for the last four days after taking damage from an Insurrectionist strike. As such the Frigate was unable to make a slipspace jump directly to Earth. Commander Joan Buckley made the call for the ship to run dark, with energy outputs just low enough to run essential navigational and life-support systems. The crew was then put into cryo-stasis before a course was plotted to the Luna outpost.

That was three months ago.

Sergeant Alice Hays walked into Cryo-Deck Bravo, briefly inspecting the row of pods. She was an Orbital Drop Shock Trooper, a sub-section of the UNSC Marines, and they were as close to Spartans as Marines could get. Born and raised in New Alexandria, the crown jewel of Reach, she had been thankful for the cryo-stasis after hearing what happened to her home. But now that she was awake again, her troubles had all but doubled.

Hays had been brought out of stasis two hours prior as per a system backup command. In the event that the ship’s operating crew didn’t wake when scheduled, Hays was assigned to investigate the problem. Having completed her inspection, she knew that the Gunnery Sergeant of their squad wouldn’t like the news.

 

* * *

 

Sharp sirens cut through Eric Thurson’s cryo-sleep and penetrated his attempts to block it out. It persisted until he punched the ‘disengage’ button located on the interior of his pod, which also deactivated the cryo-seal. His pod hissed as gas was released, the lid swinging up slowly as a secondary gas – designed to gently “thaw” the soldier – was misted over him.

“Rise and shine, Gunny.”

His dark brown hair was covered with a thin layer of frost, and ice crystals still clung to his eyelids. For more reasons than the cold, cryo-sleep was a difficult ordeal for soldiers. The technicians required that Marines strip down to undergarments, and even that had to pass certain standards. Regular clothes were dangerous in cryo-stasis; they caused what the Marines referred to as “freezer burn”, and could be the reason behind lost digits or worse.

“Wake the rest of the squad Hays,” he ordered in a choked voice, “and then alert Commander Buckley that we’re active.”

Hays hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Aye sir.” She replied as the wake-up cycle on the other four cryo-tubes in the room was engaged.

As the cryo-tubes beside Eric hissed open, he pounded his chest twice and hacked up the cryo-gel the Marines had to inhale to prevent internal damage. Soldiers were encouraged to swallow the gel after regurgitation to recover lost nutrients, but the ODST didn’t care for “breakfast.” He spat the bland mess to the tube’s floor, which featured an auto-clean system for that very reason as well as ensuring sterility for future inhabitants.

The ODST squad suited up, the chatter light despite waking from the uncomfortable situation. There were only six of them in Cryo-Deck Bravo; the rest of the ship was in Cryo Charlie.

The rookie of the squad, Private James Cavetti, tugged at the BDU’s he had gone into cryo with. “Man, these clothes itch like hell!”  His voice was thick with a Boston accent, making him difficult to be around. The squad liked him well enough though, and had grown accustomed to the sniper’s wiry attitude in the short time he had been with them.

The trooper next to him, Corporal Maria Yakushev, shook her head and smacked the Private on the back of his head with a scoff. “Of course, you fool. That is why they tell you to _not_ wear them.” Yakushev had shipped out from New Moscow, and had a tough attitude about her that her squad mates knew not to upset.

“Yeah? You just wanna see me in my boxers, Yaka.”

“You wish, Jimmy.”

Smirking at their Private, Eric left the Cryo-Deck and stepped into the locker room. He was from Sedra, an Outer Colony planet in the Orrichon system. While on the fringe of UNSC space, the colony world remained on good terms with them, so far as being allied with the United Earth Government.

Sedrans were hardy and honest. A belief in Valhalla, the Golden Hall of the Norse gods from Earth’s ancient past, ran strong among a majority of the colonists; with the culture that followed, one’s family and fellow soldiers were the most important people in their lives.

Eric’s original squad had been formed on Sedra back in 2546. While he was the only native, Sergeant Hays and Corporal Yakushev had been stationed on the planet to aid the Colonial Guard. While there, they had grown to the Sedran culture and beliefs, and were welcomed by the colonists as Sedrans themselves; despite being off-worlders.

Given their performance both in combat and in domestic security, the Sedran UNSC branch had opted to form their own ODST Fireteam; Eric had given them the designation “Helbound”, after the Norse underworld.

He watched Hays from the corner of his eye as she donned her ODST-issue battledress uniform, noting how the cryo-sleep never seemed to bother the Sergeant. Her deep red hair was buzzed to a standard crew-cut, and the faint trace of a scar ran down the left side of her face. Were it not for regulations, Eric had to admit he would take her out for a beer.

Just not an Earth beer.

“So what’s the situation, Sergeant?” Eric opened his locker, grabbing his own uniform.

“It’s FUBAR, sir.” She replied with a frown. “When we passed through the Asteroid Belt several small meteors penetrated the hull. The aft section of the ship was the only area hit, but it’s blown to hell and we’re at least five hours from Luna on the far side of Earth.”

Eric raised a brow, “Would you mind clarifying Sergeant? How much damage are we looking at here?”

“The engine room was hit the most, as well as several utility lines. Thankfully enough systems worked so that the room sealed as soon as we started venting atmosphere. It stabilized the interior pressure, but we can’t get to the drive core without depressurizing the entire cryo-deck.”

He shook his head, “Too much effort for just us. We’ll need Commander Buckley’s approval on that, but I’ll leave it for consideration.”

“Sir,” the Sergeant said flatly, “that’s the biggest problem.”

Eric gave no response, but he knew what was coming next.

“Commander Buckley is dead, as well as all remaining crew. Several of the lifelines were cut during the meteor bombardment. We’re all that’s left.”

Eric shook his head. “Dammit… What about shifting our course directly to Earth, then let a tow freighter pull us in?”

Hays paused. “That’s going to be a long shot, sir. The tools necessary to fix the drive core were lost when the hull was penetrated. Not only that, but the damn AI was critically damaged. We’ve got her basic functions, nothing more.”

Thurson sighed as he leaned against his locker. “So we’re completely adrift?”

“Yes sir, for the moment. We’re six hours past Mars, according to the NAV computer. We can repair the ship there _if_ we can hail a tow-freighter once we arrive. Though they’ll probably see us coming and send one anyways.”

Eric crossed his arms over his chest as his mouth tightened to a thin line. They were currently stranded, even if it was in UNSC space.

“Sergeant, as soon as you can send out a distress signal on all available frequencies.” The Gunny ordered as he headed to the bridge, Hays following close behind. “Try to hail any UNSC freighters and send a status report to any Office of Naval Intelligence on Earth - I don’t care which continental branch. We may be floating dead, but we can still make some noise.”

Alice gave a salute. “Sir, yes sir.”

They paused as the door to the bridge verified their Identification: Friend or Foe tags before opening. Eric sat down in the Commander’s Chair, keying up the deck’s primary systems. Hays headed towards a console to bring their Communication systems back online and re-engage the Navigational Optics. Static fuzzed on the observation display screen at the front of the bridge.

A siren suddenly blared through the ship as the NAV console lit up with numerous reports. Hays ran to silence the alert, swearing as she skimmed the readout.

“Sir, major problem!” Hays shouted as she typed furiously at the keypad to quickly draft their distress signal. “You remember how we’re drifting?”

“Hard to forget, Sergeant.”

“We’re drifting directly towards Earth.” She glanced over to him. “I can’t alter our trajectory drastically, but it’s putting us somewhere in the North American Midwest.”

“I thought the computers placed us near Mars.” He said calmly, masking the fingers of panic that curled around his chest.

“It must have been a glitch in the systems, or the sensors may have been damaged. There’s no doubt where we are now, though; Communications just pinged the _Cairo_ Station.”

Eric sat forward, pressing a hand to his mouth in thought. If they were headed towards Earth, there was no way they would be able to land safely with faulty engines. There was an even slimmer chance a tow-frigate would be able to slow or halt their approach in time; not if they had reached the battle cluster.

There was only one way to land.

“Sergeant as we approach Earth I want you to navigate around the battle cluster as best you can. Use vent thrusters, weapons systems, I don’t care. Put the ship on full-alert and bring the squad to the Bridge ASAP. Then send a distress signal directly to Admiral Hood; I want them ready when we come barreling past. Lastly set a deployment mark at just after we hit the atmosphere.”

Hays saluted sharply. “Sir, yes sir.”

 

* * *

 

Throughout the rest of the ship, a new alarm sounded - three short repeating bursts. It was a signal for the ODST to suit up fast. Yakushev jumped to her feet. “Hell,” she shouted, “make it faster, Marines!”

“Shee-it.” Corporal Hackett groaned. “What the hell kind-a trouble are we findin’ in UNSC space?” She was also relatively new to the squad, having joined with Private Cavetti during the _Come and Get ‘Em_ ’s campaign in the Sol system as they deployed from Earth.

Yakushev lightly punched Hackett on the arm with a grin. “We are ODST, Hackett, the better question is when do we find peace? We cannot even drink without trouble.”

The Corporal scrambled to grab her gear. “Hey, that bar was _not_ my fault! Can’t tell me some damn fool’s gonna accuse me of hustlin’ and not get his ass beat.”

Hackett was originally from the west side of New Memphis, contrasting Yakushev’s Eastern European culture. Despite their many differences, the two had quickly formed a bond and were now almost inseparable. Hays jokingly called them “the Hunters”, after the Covenant race that always deployed in bond-pairs.

The ODSTs suited up quickly, dressing in their dark grey battledress uniforms and battle-armor, painted a matte-black in opposition to the Marine’s dull green. In addition to the color scheme, their suits were different in many ways from standard Marines. They were able to stand zero-atmosphere environments as the sealed helmets supplied oxygen for up to fifteen minutes. They also had more extensive protection than standard battle armor through reinforced ceramic plates.

After suiting up and arming their weapons, the three soldiers headed to the bridge at a brisk pace, their boots thudding rhythmically against the steel deck.

When they arrived, GySgt Thurson filled them in on their current situation. “Alright guys and gals, we’re in a hell of a situation. First and foremost, we are the only remaining crew of the _Come and Get ‘Em_. What’s more, we don’t have a lot of time left on this ship. Key systems were damaged in the events that killed most the crew, and we’re about to land hot on Earth.” The briefing was interrupted as Cavetti’s voice echoed across the room.

“Oh my god, man--what the hell!”

Eric turned to face Cavetti, a look of mild annoyance on his face. “Private, what the hell are you yelling about?”

Corporal Yakushev raised a finger, pointing to the now operational observation display. “Sir,” she said, her face pale with shock, “you may wish to see this.”

As Eric turned around he understood Jimmy’s outburst. On the display screen the aftermath of battle greeted them. The Earth’s newly initiated Orbital Defense Grid had been overwhelmed; of 300 platforms, it now looked as though only half that number remained.

The planet itself was in a state of chaos. Several circular patterns of fire covered the globe in areas where brutal battles had been fought. Skeletons of UNSC Frigates and _Halcyon_ -Class cruisers floated in a haunting manner through space, slowly orbiting the Earth in an endless dance of death.

“Gods…” Eric whispered, collapsing back into the Commanders Chair. The Covenant ships taken down were only about a tenth of the UNSC ships, judging from the sparse purple debris in comparison to blackened greys. Numerous fighter ships floated around the corpses of the destroyers and cruisers. More than likely they were composed of Longsword fighters, rather than Covenant Seraphs.

“Sir,” Sergeant Hays cut through the shock that had permeated the deck, “we’re still drifting. Approaching deployment mark in five.”

Thurson stood, grabbing his helmet - the only one with a red Squad Leader stripe - as he shook the sense of shock from his head. “You heard her, boys and girls. We’ve got a hot date in five minutes. Get a full magazine and as many grenades as you can carry. Hackett, you have medical; pack six cans of MedGel. Hays, pack two each just in case. Yakushev, five flash-bangs should suffice and keep your knife handy. Cavetti, grab twenty-four SRS rounds and store sixteen with Hackett.”

The small squad nodded, a chorus of “Yes, sir” filling the bridge.

“Head to your pods and strap in tight! There’s hell down on Earth, and what’s a bit of hell without us? Sergeant Hays, lock in the deployment mark to the pod release, then gear up and get situated.”

Alice nodded and set in the appropriate commands, prepping their Single Occupant Exoatmospheric Insertion Vehicles. She hurried to the Deployment Deck with the rest of the squad, quickly grabbing her necessary equipment. The ODST’s locked the doors to their SOEIVs, sealed the interior pressure, and then waited as the countdown was projected on their Heads Up Display.

 _‘Time to get to work,’_ Thurson thought to himself as he locked his helmet on. ‘A _bout damn time, too.’_


	2. Chapter 2

** November 15, 2552 **

** Earth, Missouri **

** 1745 CST **

 

The SOEIV’s hatch rocketed away, smashing into a nearby tree. A fifth of the pod itself was buried in the ground, debris kicked up around the impact crater. Eric looked around from the limited view, thankful to see green grass after the ruinous greeting of Earth’s orbit. He stepped out of the pod, released the safety on his Battle Rifle and gathered a more complete view of his position.

To the south he saw a telltale landmark; the St. Louis Gateway Arch. The monument was almost six centuries old, yet the city of St. Louis had never let it fall into disrepair. To their credit, the monument looked as though it was still the year 2000.

“This is Gunnery Sergeant Eric Thurson of ODST Fireteam Helbound, broadcasting to any available UNSC forces.” He said as he surveyed the area. “My squad and I have landed in St. Louis approximately fifteen kilometers north-west of the Gateway Arch. UNSC _Come and Get ‘Em_ has crash-landed in Sector Bravo-5, North St. Louis. Crew KIA prior to atmospheric reentry; please respond, over.”

The city looked like a ghost town. The trams had stopped, and smoke rose from several unseen fires. Some of the skyscrapers were decimated, ruined skeletons of their former structures. Most of the city still stood, though it was most likely infested with Covenant troops.

His earpiece crackled, the damaged antennae in the city straining to put the signal through. _“Helbound, this is the 36 th of Cleveland broadcasting from Fort Manning. We have no reports of a distress signal; our comms are all but shot. We have no communication with ONI New York--our best guess is that Covenant tech is jamming all outgoing signals. Be advised, there is high alien activity in St. Louis. Both factions are present. Civilian occupancy is minimal, if at all.”_

“Copy that, 36th. Thurson out.” He didn’t know what they meant by ‘both factions’, but any Covenant he saw was as good as dead.

Eric downloaded a map of St. Louis to his HUD, his squad’s IFF tags displayed over their coordinates. The map then projected over the existing terrain based on his current view; the IFF indicators appeared behind a hill, through a copse of trees and wherever else his squad was located.

He opened up the squad comm-line, his ear-piece fuzzing with static for a moment. “Helbound, fall in.” His squad’s vitals appeared on the right side of his HUD as they reported; all green. Their jump had been a success in that none of the squad had died, but there had been no coordination to their landing. Hackett had hollered like she was in a rodeo the whole way down, but she was the only one to have vocalized anything.

 _‘Speak of the cowgirl.’_ Eric thought as she arrived first, swaggering over a small hill like she was heading to a kegger.

“Helluva ride, sir. I ain’t ever gonna get tired of it.” She smirked through a 15% polarized visor, though her mirth was thin. “Sure didn’t help the view coming down, though.”

“No it did not, Corporal,” the Gunny replied, “though I’m sure that St. Louis will need our help now that we’re here.”

The rest of the squad soon arrived at the rendezvous point. “Area secure, sir.” Alice said with a salute. “Ran into a couple Grunts when I landed. Gave ‘em a dirt nap.”

“Man, can you believe this?” Jimmy shouted in excitement. “I shot right under the Arch comin’ in like I was a freakin’ home-run ball. I coulda reached out an touched it if--“

 “We’ve got a situation, Helbound,” Eric said, cutting off the Private, “beyond the obvious. Hays, your methane-sucking chimps mean the Covenant are still here. Expect Elites and Brutes, as well as more Grunts and Jackals. Probably a few Hunters, too." Eric grimaced, only imagining what the large, colony-army aliens could do to the squad.

“Yeah?” Yakushev smirked, hefting a M19 SSM Jackhammer rocket launcher, the word ‘SPNKr’ painted in white letters down the side. “Well I have a few surprises waiting for them, if they decide to play rough.”

Yakushev was the demolitions specialist. Her battle-armor was thicker than the standard issue, particularly around the chest, arms and neck, allowing her added protection in the likely event of an explosion.

After going over the groups’ individual reports while dropping in, Thurson allowed the squad some time to recuperate. Yakushev scrolled through a datapad, learning basic information of the city. She furrowed a brow at Hackett as the Corporal walked over. “What the hell did you do to your visor?”

Hackett smirked, pulling off her helmet to look at it. A section of her visor was polarized to 100% in the appearance of aviator sunglasses, the rest of the visor was currently at 15%. “I got some techie to customize it when I was posted on Reach.”

Yakushev frowned. “Shit,” she shook her head, “no chance to get one for myself then. How did they do it?”

“Diff’rent pieces of visor-glass. Sensors run to separate polarization managers, so I can adjust them separately, or equal them out. I thought it’d be kick-ass and it was only fifteen hundred credits.”

Yakushev smirked. “Always trying to be cool, aren’t you?”

Hackett grinned, taking a sip from her canteen. “I am cool, Yakushev.”

Alice smiled faintly, watching the two Corporals. She slung her assault rifle over her shoulder, moving to converse with the Gummy alone a few feet away from the rest of the squad. “Sir, what’s our objective?” She asked, her tone hushed.

“Currently Sergeant?” Eric replied. “We make our way into the city, neutralizing any Covenant hostiles we encounter, and regroup with any UNSC forces that remain.”

“What about Earth, sir?”

Eric scoffed. “Hays you want to save the world, pray real hard and ONI might send a Spartan to drop down from space and chase the Covenant off. Until then we focus on our own predicament. We’ll have to worry about Earth after.”

Alice furrowed her brow. “Yes sir. Any word from local friendlies?”

“Not much that made any sense.” Eric sighed. “Something about two factions of freaks, and there’s Covie tech that’s putting outgoing signals on the fritz.”

Hays thought for a moment. “First priority should be to take out those jammers then, if we can find them, and then re-establish communications with the nearest base.”

The Gunny nodded in agreement. “And there’s the challenge,” he smirked grimly, “trying to find something that doesn’t want to be found.”

 

* * *

 

Jimmy sat on a stump, eying the city and cradling his SRS99C-S2 AMB rifle. He was the squad’s sniper, even though he was the jumpiest of the group. But when he looked through the scope of his rifle, he was steady as a rock.

“Oi, sir!” He shouted, spotting a glimmer of metal in the distance. “We got company!” The Private raised the sniper rifle, the image through the scope appearing on his HUD.

He zoomed to 10x magnification, seeing a squad of four Grunts and two Elites. One of the Elites wore the standard blue of a Minor. The other wore the much more honored ornate armor of a Zealot, colored gold of the Field Marshall rank. “Oh shit.” A knot formed in his gut. “Covies, sir!”

Eric quickly joined Cavetti and zoomed his HUD forward magnified 2x to get a glimpse at what the Private was seeing. “Shit.” He hissed through clenched teeth. “Marines, get combat-ready!” He raised his battle rifle, waiting for the Covenant forces to come in range.

“Sir, they’re laying down their weapons.” Cavetti said. “Should we fire?” He looked at the Gunny, confusion plain on his face.

“Remain alert.” Eric ordered. “Yakushev, if they try anything funny I want you to take out the Elites.”

“With what, sir?”

“After the Private takes out their shields, shove a rocket down their throat.” Eric said plainly. He would have suggested using the Jackhammer alone, but it was common knowledge that Zealot shields could take a rocket to the chest and still have strength to spare.

The Covenant moved closer, their hands held up in plain sight. The ODST remained alert. Yakushev kept her rocket launcher trained on the Zealot, her fingers tightening and loosening on the hold in anticipation.

Eric opened his comms. “Helbound to Ft. Manning, Covenant inbound; two Elites and a handful of Grunts. Targets have laid down their weapons and appear to be surrendering. Please advise.”

The almost panicked response was immediate over the entire squad’s comms. _“Helbound do not engage, I repeat do_ not _engage! The Swords of Sanghelios forces are protected under the Ceasefire; any motion against them is a breach of that treaty. Do not engage!”_

“You gotta be shittin’ me.” Hackett said incredulously, her shotgun still trained on the aliens.

“Hold fire,” Eric ordered, “but don’t let them out of your sight.”

As the Covenant approached them, the ODST circled around them. “Humans,” the Zealot growled, “we come to you in brotherhood. Events have occurred among our kin that would condemn us to death--“

“You want death, _ublyudok_ _?”_ Yakushev shouted as she slammed the butt of her launcher hard into the Zealot’s gut. He dropped to a knee, letting out a surprised cough. She stood over him, the Jackhammer aimed directly at his face. “What did you freaks do to Earth? All these people dead, and for what; your so-called Great Journey!?”

“Yakushev, stand down!” The Gunny barked, amazed the Zealot hadn’t attacked her already and thankful she had the good sense to not fire.

Hackett pulled the Corporal away from the Elite. “Hey, I know it’s tough, but this ain’t the time—not yet.” Yakushev nodded, head-butting Hackett’s helmet in affirmation as she slung the launcher over her back. Emily clapped her on the shoulder, letting her go.

The Zealot stood up, his mandibles twitching in agitation and contained anger. “I am Esa ‘Vadam.” He said, gesturing to the Minor. “My blood-kin, Nosu, and all of the Sangheili in our cause honor Kaidon Thel ‘Vadam as Arbiter. His word commands us now as the renewed Swords of Sanghelios, and he has made peace with your leaders.”

Eric slowly lowered his rifle. “Peace, huh—just like that? The view from orbit could have fooled us.” His squad followed suite, equally uncomfortable with the situation. “You.” He pointed at the Zealot. “I want to know everything you know.”

Esa looked to Yakushev, the ODST bristling in response. “I will speak to you, human, but not near such unruly soldiers.”

The Gunny shook his head. “Fine. Helbound, secure the others. Make sure they don’t do anything… sudden.”

“Sir…” Tension was heavy in Hay’s voice.

“Relax, Sarge.” He said over private comms. “If anything happens to me, you’re in command. As my final order in the event of my untimely death; kill the bastards.”

Hays remained silent, but gave a sharp nod as Eric and the Zealot walked towards a small gazebo. “Alright,” Eric said coldly, “start talking. I’m not complaining, but why aren’t we dead?”

The Zealot huffed in mild amusement. “Even you admit our skill in battle. You are not dead because we are now allies, human, and to slay an ally is a great dishonor. We have been shown the truth of this war, of the lies the Prophets told us. We need one another now.”

“We’ve done just fine despite you split-chins trying to exterminate us. So why’d you throw in the towel?” Eric asked, setting his helmet aside as he sat on a picnic table. “I thought your Covenant was one big happy family.”

Esa ignored the human’s contempt, understanding where it came from. “Not so, human. The Prophets manipulated and lied to us. When we found out the truth, we rebelled. We overthrew what Prophets we could, and took our fleets for our own. Much blood was shed, and many Sangheili lost their lives. We side now with your kind in hopes to stop the Great Liar, Truth, on his mad journey to become a god.”

“Yeah, sounds like fun. Truth be told I probably would have killed you if you would have so much as flipped me off,” Eric said flatly, “but I had my orders to stand down, so you and your squad didn’t get an ass full of lead. Don’t think we’re friends just because our bosses say so.”

Esa nodded, understanding the tentative alliance.

“So what’s the plan?”

The Zealot pointed off in the distance to the Gateway Arch. “Your monument has been taken. The Jiralhanae have stolen it for their cruel devices. They have many Kig-Yar, and their mutual bloodlust makes them fight all the more viciously.”

Eric waved a hand in confusion, “The hell’s a Jiral-hanay? Or a Kig-Yar for that matter?”

“The Jiralhanae are what you call ‘Brutes’, and rightfully so.” Esa growled. “They have no honor. They would sooner kill their kin than serve them. The Kig-Yar you have named Jackals; they are weak in body but shrewd of mind, and they serve without protest so long as they benefit from it.”

 “Yeah, and they love their snipers.” Eric said grimly. “You said they took the monument. Is that what’s interfering with communications?”

The Zealot nodded again. “It is possible. Your primitive frequencies would suffer from the energy fields of even our simplest devices, and the Brutes are known for their zeal in utilizing the most cruel.”

“Watch the primitive speak, bud.” Eric scowled, looking to the Arch. “So whatever’s up there, we’ve got to take it out. Any bright ideas?”

Esa chuckled. “Indeed, human. We kill as many Jiralhanae as we can, and we take your city back.”

 

* * *

 

Hackett shook her head, watching the GySgt talk with the Zealot. She elbowed Yakushev. “Hey, what do you think the freak’s telling the Gunny?” When Maria didn’t answer she turned to face her.

Maria watched the Grunts as they chittered among themselves. She scoffed. “They are up to something, I just know it. We should kill them, right now. Would the Brass ever know? Of course not, it is war!”

Hackett gave a conflicted look. “Yeah, but we’d know. I mean, a treaty’s a treaty.”

“Pff,” Maria scoffed again, “don’t tell me that you have gone soft for the freaks so quickly.”

“Hell no! I just ain’t gonna lose my rank because of the bastards.”

Sergeant Hays turned to face the two. “Not to mention, Corporal, that our Squadron Leader is currently isolated from the rest of us with a Zealot-class Field Marshall. I would much prefer not to lose him.”

Jimmy snickered. “Yeah, we know.”

Hays smacked the back of his helmet with the butt of her gun, just enough to rattle him. “He’s your Gunny too, Private.”

The squad chuckled as Jimmy shook his head. “Jeeze, it was a joke Sarge.”

GySgt Thurson rejoined the squad with Esa, shouldering his Battle Rifle. “Bunk down, Helbound. We move out at first light.”


	3. Chapter 3

** November 16, 2552 **

** St. Louis, Missouri **

** 0800 CST **

 

The following morning the ODST and Swords of Sanghelios moved into the city. The Marines were still tense around the Elites, though Jimmy had taken an odd liking to the Grunts.

“So why Earth?” Yakushev demanded as they walked, anger edging her voice. “Don’t you _urody_ get all holy for giant floating rings in space?”

“Yakushev,” Sergeant Hays warned, stress lacing her voice, “cool it.”

“I just cannot see some split-chin relaxing in New Moscow, sipping wine and taking in all the fine--“

“Corporal.” Thurson ordered in frustration. “Stow it, Yakushev.”

“It’s shit, sir!” She yelled, thrusting an accusing finger at the Elites. “You saw what they did to the fleet--to Earth! They kill us for decades, and then they come to our Homeworld, and now I must play nice to them?! _”_

Esa growled and grabbed Yakushev’s armor. He lifted her into the air, pinning the Helljumper to the wall of the building they were behind. The other five ODST raised their guns - safeties on - and aimed them at the Zealot’s head.

“Drop her.” Thurson said through gritted teeth as Maria swung at the Elite in vain.

“Listen to me now, _human._ ” Esa snarled to Yakushev, stilling the Corporal. “Though our kind has fought with yours for many cycles, we remain a people of honor. The Prophet’s lies no longer guide our hand, fighting a war for their holy suicide. My fleet had no hand in the battle that claimed yours, and has likely fallen to the same beasts whose actions you would blame on my people. Keep silent your anger, or I will give you reason to hate me.”

The Elite released her, dropping the human on her feet. The ODST squad lowered their weapons, Eric exhaling in relief. Yakushev sneered, her pride hurt more than her person. “Talk is cheap.” She muttered as she stepped back into formation.

“Excellency!” One of the Grunts chirped excitedly. “The monument! We here!” Though they still had several miles to go, the Grunt rejoiced only because it could see the shining silver arch. Its celebration was cut short as a light blue beam lanced through the creature’s skull. The Grunt gave a choked yelp, falling to the side as it clenched the plasma pistol in its fist. As it struck the pavement, its fingers released the trigger, a blob of green plasma bursting forward.

The shot struck the back of Yakushev’s leg. The plasma burned through her battledress, scorching her skin and melting through her calf muscle to the bone. She collapsed against the wall of the building, screaming in pain as the rest of the squad scrambled for cover.

“Kig-yar!” The Elite Minor, Nosu, shouted. “I have not the weapons to hit the coward.”

“I got this,” Jimmy said, his voice cool and level, “just gimme a few minutes.”

Hackett ran to Yakushev’s side, pulling a canister of Optican MedGel from her backpack, cracking the safety seal and spreading the white biofoam on Yakushev’s calf.

The wounded Marine gritted her teeth, growling in pain as the foam expanded, sealing and sterilizing the wound completely. She pulled her helmet off, tossing it aside for fresh air. “Take it easy, hillbilly!” She snapped.

“I ain’t loosin’ you, Rusty.” The southern woman growled.

“It’s _Ruskie_ , and it’s nothing.”

“The hell it is!” Hackett objected. “It looks like you’re whole goddamn calf’s missin’; you’ll be lucky if you can walk after this!” Worry was thick in her voice, as well as determination. “I ain’t loosin’ you.” She said firmly.

Maria looked to the foam, her brow furrowed. “Very well. Finish it.” She gritted her teeth, remaining silent as Hackett applied more biofoam to her leg.

 

* * *

 

Jimmy steadied his sniper rifle, the muzzle barely poking out of a heap of rubble. The scope just cleared the pile of trash, giving Cavetti a clear shot. He was fully covered behind a building, gripping the handle and butt of the rifle at a right angle. The scope’s image was displayed on his visor, allowing the ODST to remain behind cover and still shoot. “Crap.” He whispered to himself before opening the comm. “Oi Sarge, c’mere.”

Hays crouched by Cavetti. “Yeah, Private; what do we have?”

“I got seven Jackals, all holdin’ sniper rifles. I can take out four of ‘em before reloading, but I’ll need you to pop off some party favors for the other three.”

Hays smirked and patted Cavetti on the shoulder. “You got it, Boston. I’ll grab the Jackhammer; just tell me when to fire.”

Eric’s voice crackled over the snipers comm, _“How’re we coming, Private?”_ He demanded. _“The rest of us are getting pretty tired of just sitting here.”_

“Almost set, sir,” the Private responded, “waiting for Sergeant Hays to get in position. Seven tangos about one-hundred yards west of our position; three at elevation three-zero, four at elevation two-zero-zero.”

Alice rejoined the Private, hefting Yakushev’s rocket launcher. “Hays, in position.”

Cavetti calmed his hands, taking aim. “On my mark.” Four shots broke the silence, a second separating each sharp ‘ _crack!’_ as the Jackals on the roof dropped. “Now!” He shouted.

Two thick rolls of _‘whumph!’_ pounded Cavetti’s stomach. The 102mm HEAT missiles rushed over his head, racing towards the building to slam into the third floor. Charred and partial Jackals flew from the windows, followed by fire and thick black smoke.

“They’re down!” Jimmy shouted. “Coast is clear, sir. Looks like we gotta ride as well; there’s two transport ‘Hogs that look in good shape.”

“Perfect.” Eric grinned. “Alright ODST, double-time it to those Warthogs; we’ve wasted too much time here.” Hackett picked up Yakushev, helping her to walk as they moved out.

Esa nodded to Nosu as the Marines ran for the vehicles, the Minor relaying the same order to the Grunts before loping after the humans.

 

* * *

 

Eric smirked in satisfaction as the M831 Troop Transport roared to life. The Warthog featured a caged bench in the back rather than an M41 Light Anti-Aircraft Gun. It could seat up to seven Marines, five comfortably, and would be a great asset to the squad.

The vehicles had been hastily abandoned by their previous operators, and had even been left with a few rappelling harnesses and an assortment of industrial tools. Plasma burns - at least eight feet in diameter - littered the battlefield; a grim reminder that a Wraith tank had been in the area. One of the M831’s had been tipped on its side, though luckily it was relatively unharmed. It had taken both of the Elites’ effort to right the three-ton vehicle on its wheels. As they climbed in to the ‘Hogs, the squad expressed stiff thanks to their new companions.

The humans and aliens were split between the two vehicles. Eric and Hays both drove a Warthog, with Esa in Eric’s passenger seat and Nosu in Hays’. Jimmy and the three remaining Grunts rode in the back of Eric’s vehicle, with Hackett and Yakushev in Hays’. Emily tended to Maria’s makeshift cast, her face stony in concentration.

Eric gave a thumbs-up to the Sergeant as they took off, the Warthogs tearing across the damaged highway towards the Gateway Arch. The monument was still approximately seven miles from their current position, and the Gunny didn’t expect the Brutes to vacate the road just for them. He had hoped against all likelihood that they wouldn’t encounter the vicious ape-like aliens, but the news Esa had given him the day earlier confirmed that reclaiming the city wouldn’t be easy.

The two recon vehicles wove between piles of debris and smoking vehicle ruins, bouncing every now and again. The engines whirred loudly, masking the sound of outside contacts and making the journey that much more tense. Those in the back kept a sharp eye out, watching for any movement around them. Esa winced and growled as he caught a rancid scent. “Brutes, left side!”

“Then we go right.” Eric responded. He spun the wheel rapidly, the Warthog fishtailing slightly as they sped up an on-ramp, jumping out onto the Interstate. Sergeant Hays followed after him, trying to make the turn as gentle as possible for Hackett and Yakushev.

Blue and green orbs of plasma suddenly splashed against the rear of Hay’s Warthog as they blew past a Brute lance. “Dammit!” Hackett swore, snatching her M6C magnum from her hip. She clicked the safety off, returning fire. As she took down a couple Grunts, the Brute commanding them climbed onto a Ghost, roaring a challenge as he sped after them.

“Aw, hell.” Emily grimaced as her shots ricocheted off the craft’s hull. “Hey Sergeant, step on it!”

Hays looked behind them, accelerating to pulling up beside Eric. “Yakushev!” She hollered over the comm. “Can you take out that Ghost?”

“Yes ma’am!” She replied, hefting the Jackhammer from her seated position. Blue plasma lanced towards Eric’s ‘Hog, urging the Gunny to take evasive action. As the vehicle swerved to avoid being hit, Jimmy fell right into the line of fire. Two large bolts of plasma struck the ODST; one in the chest and the other in his gut. The Private cried out in pain, slumping to the floor of the cage. The Grunts squalled in terror, cowering behind the rollcage as best they could.

“Corporal, take out that Ghost!” Eric shouted. Two vital indicators flashed in his sight now; Maria’s orange and Jimmy’s red; the later blinking more rapidly. The mission wasn’t a scrap yet, but it would be if that Ghost kept at it.

Yakushev hefted the rocket launcher again with a grunt, taking quick aim. “Take this, mother-” Her last words were drowned out in the deafening _‘whumph!’_ as a rocket flew from the tube, striking the pavement in front of the purple, insect-like craft.

The Ghost flipped, dumping the Brute to the pavement. The alien growled in frustration as it jumped to its feet. As it flipped the vehicle, a second rocket hit the stationary target. The Ghost and Brute pilot went up in a bright flash of blue fire and plasma, charred purple shrapnel scattering across the road.

“Sir,” the Corporal asked over comms, “Private Cavetti?”

“KIA.” Eric replied in a flat tone. The Private’s vitals had gone black as the first rocket had been fired. It was never an easy thing when squadmates died, and Eric was sure that Maria would pay the Covenant back. “We’re all Hel-bound, Yakushev. We honor him by fighting on; he will not be forgotten.”

“ _Da_ , sir.”

Thurson was relieved to see Yakushev’s vitals up to yellow. That meant that she was in a state of discomfort, but was battle-ready. “I trust you’ll repay Hackett for covering your ass by keeping the road clear?” He asked over the comm.

“Yes sir, I will.” She replied. “Payback’s my name, and payback’s a bitch.”

“Glad to hear it. We’re approaching the Arch in approximately three minutes, so get frosty Helljumpers.”

The two Warthogs barreled down the exit ramp, the Arch coming into clear view. There was still the occasional Grunt or Jackal lance on the highway, though as far as the squad could tell from air traffic, there were no Covenant forces occupying the monument itself. Eric knew that it wouldn’t last, though, as word would get out that the ODST were reclaiming the site.

Eric shoved the throttle forward, the Warthog’s engine whirring louder as they raced down the road. With any luck, they could get this job done today, and hopefully they wouldn’t lose anyone else.

Hopefully.


	4. Chapter 4

** November 16, 2552 **

** St. Louis, MO **

** 1400 CST **

 

The Warthogs skidded to a halt in the shadow of the Arch. The ODST and their Covenant allies hopped from the vehicles, their weapons at the ready. Yakushev took more care in moving than the rest, her leg supported by nothing but solidified biofoam and battle-ready bandages.

To the south of the Arch the Old Cathedral still stood, having been taken care of as well as the monument. It would provide the Marines with excellent cover should they need it in the firefight to come.

Esa motioned the Gunnery Sergeant over, his attention on the top of the monument. As Eric headed over to the Elite, the Zealot pointed to the Arch. “Do you see that, human?”

Eric craned his head up, upping his visor’s magnification to get a better view. “It looks like a spiky purple pickle.” He replied. “What is it?”

“A bomb.”

Thurson’s attention snapped back to the Zealot. “Well that’s just great.”

Nosu joined them, peering up at the device. “It is contained antimatter and plasma. When it explodes, it melts the metal casing, and propels it up to five-hundred units from that height. The plasma then covers the area, burning everything under its blanket. It is very effective; you are lucky that it is such a small device.”

Hackett whistled while Yakushev grimaced at the description. “Sounds wonderful.” The Demolitions Expert said sarcastically. “How do we stop it?”

Nosu gave an odd shrug. “You should only have to touch the bomb. There will be a pad in the form of blue light-“

“ _Da_ , a holo-pad.” Yakushev interrupted. “I am not stupid.”

“Press it.” The Minor growled in annoyance. “This will stop the bomb from detonating.”

Eric thought quickly. “Yakushev, Hackett; I want you to get to the top of the Arch via rappelling lifts. They should reach all the way to the top. Once you arrive at the peak I want you to deactivate the bomb, and then get it down here. Drop it straight from the top, and then we’ll worry about disarming it.” He looked to the Minor “Will that set the bomb off?”

The Sangheili shook his head. “No. They are designed to withstand much more exterior damage than a fall.”

“Perfect.” Eric replied, pointing to the Corporals. “You two, snap to it.” He looked up to the sky as dark storm clouds began to roll in. “Pronto. That could put a major damper on things.”

As the rest of the squad set up a defensive perimeter, Hackett and Yakushev retrieved the climbing gear from the Warthogs before positioning themselves under the monument. “Ready?” Yakushev asked as she fastened the clamps of the rappelling harness to her armor.

“Damn straight, let’s do this.”

They aimed the launchers and fired. Two thick magnetic nodes shot upward at high velocity towards the top of the monument. Just when Emily thought the lines wouldn’t reach, the woven steel cords snapped taut as the electromagnetic anchors fastened tightly to the Arch. The lines could support up to five hundred pounds of pressure, allowing an ODST to catch another falling--if the event occurred.

Once the soldiers had attached the lines to their rappelling harnesses they pressed the auto-retracts. The two ODST were lifted comfortably and quickly into the air, racing closer to the explosive threat.

“Whew,” Hackett breathed in amazement, “we can see everything from up here.”

Yakushev pulled a portable spin-saw from her belt. The bomb was fixed tight into position, metal spikes digging deep into the monument. “Six-hundred and thirty feet.” She said as she reached out to touch the holo-pad.

“What?”

“630 feet, that’s how high up we are.” She got to work on the spikes after the holo-pad indicated the bomb was on stand-by.

“Well,” Hackett said with a grin, “we’ve been higher before.” She took out her spin-saw and followed Maria’s example.

Yakushev chuckled slyly. “In more ways than one.” Both cut carefully to manage each spike so that the bomb wouldn’t swing down to hit either of them. After several minutes it dropped to the pavement below with a heavy _‘thud!’_ as the last spikes were cut.

Maria stowed her saw, looking around. “You know, despite everything this is not so bad a city. We should visit here again, after this war is over.” Her mood quickly darkened, as she looked to the west. “ _Blyat_!” She swore, opening the comm. “Gunny, you have Covenant inbound, ETA right-damn-now!”

Eric readied his rifle. “Where at Corporal?”

“Brute squads coming in from, ah…” She pulled up the street names on her HUD. “Washington Avenue and Memorial Drive--oh, _Bogi moi…_ Sir they have Hunters!”

Eric swore. “How many? I need numbers.”

“At least two, sir.”

“Shit! All units,” he ordered quickly, “defensive positions! Hackett, Yakushev; double-time it back here and get some explosives on those worms.” The squad took cover behind the Warthogs, checking their ammo and taking strategic positions.

“Go, Emily, go!” Yakushev yelled as they hit the release on their zip-lines. They dropped rapidly, their descent slowing as they reached five feet above the ground.

The ODST detached their harnesses, leaving them dangling to the Arch. Yakushev swore again as she hit the ground, the biofoam cracking slightly. She tried to pick herself up, using the bomb as leverage. Hackett doubled back, lifting Maria up and helping her move as they headed towards the rest of the squad, taking cover with the Elites behind one of the warthogs.

A Hunter marched into sight, its bondmate two steps behind. Dozens of Grunts followed behind the lumbering titans, their plasma weapons held at the ready.

Eric stood up from behind the Warthog, raising his battle rifle above his head. “ _Heilir hildar til!_ ” He shouted, the warcry put through external comms so that their enemy could hear it. The Helbound stood with him, weapons aimed at the Covenant. “ _Heilir hildi frá!_ ” They shouted in reply before unloading a barrage of bullets.

Nosu shook his head. “These humans are mad.” He said to Esa. The Zealot gave only a shrug in reply before joining the humans’ ambush, firing bolts of blue plasma towards the thinning Grunt troops. Nosu barked an order to their Grunts, pressuring the smaller aliens to fire upon their brethren.

Thunder echoed off the buildings as Yakushev fired two rockets, painting the street orange as they hit. As the smoke cleared the Hunters bellowed in anger, still alive despite the rockets.

Hackett shot from behind the front wheel of the ‘Hog, taking down several of the Grunts before having to reload. _‘Whumph! Whumph!’_ Two more rockets flew over the M831, downing the first Hunter. Its bondmate roared in rage, lobbing a plasma mortar towards the squad.

Maria took cover behind the Warthog as the green plasma slammed into the side of it. The vehicle skidded backwards with the impact, but remained intact. “I’m out!” She shouted, tossing the spent M19 aside. As the rocket launcher hit the pavement rain began to fall; faintly at first, but growing in intensity.

Hackett primed an M9 HE-DP grenade. “Frag out!” She shouted before hurling the explosive towards the Covenant mob. The device detonated, sending Grunts and Brutes scattering. A blue orb sailed through the air at the same time, landing on the hood of the Warthog.

“Grenade!”

The Swords and humans scrambled from the Warthog, diving behind the second one as the first exploded, catching one of the Grunts in the blast. Sergeant Hays reloaded frantically. “Sir, this is FUBAR! I’m running out of ammo and I’m sure I’m not the only one. We’ve got to get out of here now!”

Eric glanced over the hood of the remaining ‘Hog. Five brutes remained, one of them a Captain while the rest were Minors. Each Brute commanded at least a half-dozen Grunts. Then there was still a Hunter to contend with. He ducked back behind the ‘Hog as a shot of plasma hit the hood in front of him, reloading as well. “Agreed, Sergeant.” He grunted.

Hackett looked to the bomb, the blue holo-pad catching her attention as it began to pulse slowly. “That sounds like a great plan, sir. I recommend we get tha hell out of here now!”

Eric growled in frustration, giving the order. “All units fall back to the cathedral; that means Elites too. Move it!”

The squad quickly retreated, the Elites covering their rear as they fired back at the Covenant troops behind them. The Hunter rushed towards them. It bellowed angrily as it brought its shield down on the Warthog the squad abandoned, the blow crumpling the vehicle’s roof in. Nosu suffered a plasma shot to the shoulder, overloading his shields and scorching his armor. One of their Grunts went flying as a Brute Shot grenade detonated at his feet.

Hays stopped after opening the cathedral door, turning to cover the squad as the Covenant quickly followed them. Hackett continued to help Yakushev run, her leg now seeping blood through the biofoam. As they made it up the cathedral steps, a blob of blue plasma hit her in the side, knocking her to the right.

“Dammit!” Hackett swore as she caught Maria, helping her friend through the doors. They made their way down the aisle, Yakushev slumping into a pew towards the front.

“Did you diffuse the bomb?” Eric asked Hackett.

“Yes, sir, but it re-activated somehow.” She shouted, hitting the ground. “I‘d get down if I was you!”

“Everyone down!” Eric shouted. The mixed squad dropped to the floor as the windows shattered in, blue plasma flames licking at the edges. The explosion shook the entire building, but the structure stood.

Sergeant Hays rolled to the side as the two thick oak doors flew down the aisle, slamming into the wall behind her. They clipped the last Grunt, who chirped before tumbling with the hit, a pool of blue blood spreading under the still corpse. The pews towards the doors caught fire, quickly being extinguished as the wind from the explosion whipped past.

“Report!” Eric shouted when everything went still. He didn’t really need them to; he knew the squad’s status, it was just an old habit that died hard. He cringed, seeing a squad mate’s orange indicator blinking slowly.

“Gods-dammit.” Yakushev growled from the floor, pulling her helmet off and dropping it to the side. The Russian’s face was slick with perspiration, and blood seeped thicker from her leg.

Corporal Hackett crawled to the wounded Helljumper, pulling her second and last can of MedGel from her pack to patch up the cast. “Aw, hell, Rusty…” She chuckled dryly, seeing the large, melted patch of armor on Yakushev’s left side - a close shot.

The Corporal shook her head, knowing it could have been much worse. “Yeah,” she smirked, “guess I’m one lucky _suka_.”

Hackett nodded, replacing the Optican in her pack. “I suppose I still gotta help you walk.” She said, motioning to Maria’s seriously wounded leg. “We’ll get that fix’d up when we get to a base.”

Yakushev nodded, taking a deep breath before sitting up, her hand clutching Hackett’s shoulder.

Eric moved over to the wounded Helljumper. “This isn’t over yet, Corporal.” He said grimly. “You think you can still fight?”

Yakushev smirked. “You bet your ass, sir.”

A dark and hearty chuckle came from the doorway. A Brute Chieftain, dressed in gold armor and brandishing a gravity hammer, leered at the squad. With a challenging roar, Esa drew an energy sword from his hip. As he squeezed the handle, the sweeping blue arcs of plasma leapt to life with a sharp _‘crack!’_ of heated air.

The Zealot charged the Chieftain, ducking under the hammer as it swept overhead. He cut upward with the blade, slicing the Brute’s power armor and damaging it critically.

The Chieftain roared in rage, hitting Esa with the butt of the hammer and knocking the Elite to the floor. He grinned savagely, hefting the hammer above his head as he stood over the downed Sangheili. As the hammer swung down, the Zealot quickly rolled to the side. A burst of energy from the weapon knocked Esa into the wall, as well as several broken pews.

The Sangheili quickly rose to his feet, slashing his sword behind him. The plasma connected with flesh and metal, taking the Brute Chieftain’s hand and cutting the hammer’s shaft in two. As the Brute howled in pain, he shouldered the Zealot in the back, pushing him into the wall.

“Damnable Sangheili!” the Brute shouted as he stomped Esa’s hand to the wall. The Elite lost his grip on the energy sword, the blade deactivating and dropping harmlessly to the ground. The Zealot roared and kicked the Chieftain in the gut, sending the Brute reeling backwards. He wrestled with the ape-like alien, both matched in strength despite the Brute’s missing hand. Violet blood smeared the Elite’s golden combat harness; the Brute’s other clawed fist groping for his neck.

Nosu rushed forward to club the Chieftain in the back of the neck with his plasma rifle. There was a sharp _‘snap!’_ that silenced the Brute. He looked dazed, the light going out of his eyes before he slumped onto Esa. Nosu stood by tensely as the Zealot wrestled the corpse off; interfering in such a battle, especially taking the honor of the kill from his superior, could mean death for the young Sangheili.

Esa stood and retrieved his energy sword, breathing heavily. He clasped Nosu on the shoulder, giving a nod “Many thanks, my kin. I shall see to it that you are justly rewarded for saving my life.”

The Minor pressed a fist to his chest, bowing his head in gratitude. “You honor me.”

 

* * *

 

Eric and his squad headed out of the cathedral with the Elites. The two Separatists had planned to stay in the city, aiding more troops and civilians to fight the Loyalists that remained, however they were all that was left of their lance. Esa felt they would be a better service with the human squad. As the ODST descended the cathedral steps, they stopped to observe the battle’s aftermath.

The blast had all but destroyed the entire block. The front of the cathedral was charred and pitted, every window blown in. The Gateway Arch still stood, but barely. A second explosion of that magnitude would topple the tentative monument, but for now its reinforced tetra-steel - a titanium alloy - held the monument in place. The Covenant surrounding the Arch had been obliterated, never standing a chance against the accidental trap. A steady rain poured over the still-smoking corpses, doing little to clean up the mess.

The Gunny’s comm briefly hissed with static. _“Fireteam Helbound, this is Pelican dropship Foxtrot two-eight-six of the 381 st; Do you copy?”_

“We copy, Pelican 286,” Eric replied, “good to hear from you. I take it you’re our ride to a new home?”

 _“Yes, sir, we’ve orders to take you to Ft. Manning in Ohio.”_ The pilot responded. _“This weather’s playing hell with our flight-paths, but we’ll have you outta there in no-time. ETA - three minutes.”_

“Copy that, Foxtrot-286, holding position for evac.” Eric replied. He shouldered his Battle Rifle, surveying the city as he sat on the cathedral steps.

“Well, sir,” Sergeant Hays said, as she stood next to him, “I’d say we did a job well done.” She sat down, her visor decreasing to 10% polarization.

He smiled. “Damn straight, we did. Though the Brass might not like what happened to the Arch.”

They looked up as the Pelican roared into view. The Vertical Take Off and Landing aircraft - or VTOL for short - struggled in the wind and rain, but didn’t strayed far from its intended path.

“You think this is over?” Hays said, motioning to the dead Covenant littering the street.

“For St. Louis? Maybe.” He replied, getting to his feet as the dropship touched down. “I have a feeling this is the start of a very long winter, though. But anytime we come back alive is a victory, so I’ll drink to this.”

The ODST climbed into the troop-bay of the Pelican after it touched down. Hackett continued to help support Yakushev, keeping all her weight off her wounded leg. They would have recovered Jimmy’s body, but the ODST had been incinerated in the bomb’s blast.

The Elites climbed in last; regarding the human craft as though it was likely to explode. Still, they took the seats closest to the rear hatch, sitting on the diminutive benches as best they could.

The Pelican lifted vertically into the air once the squad was aboard, the rear hatch sealing shut with a faint hiss.

The cabin’s comm clicked. _“We’ll be reaching Ft. Manning in roughly twenty minutes, sir.”_ Suddenly warning sirens sounded through the ship. _“Ah, hell! Covie Banshees inbound – take evasive action, dammit!”_ The Pelican veered sharply to the left, forcing the ODST to quickly grab for handholds. _“Hang tight back there,”_ the pilot shouted tensely, _“they’re circling around!”_

The Pelican quickly rolled a full 360 degrees, the engines and vents whirring in strain. Out the cockpit windshield, the ODST could see fuel rod missiles skim past the Pelican. “Damn.” Eric coughed as the aircraft righted. “I didn’t know a Pelican could do that.”

 _“To be honest, sir,”_ the pilot said in relief, _“neither did I.”_

Nosu’s mandibles twitched as he shook his head to clear it. “You humans fly like Kig-Yar – erratic and unpredictable. It is no wonder the Brutes have trouble fighting you in the air.”

“Hey, I just got an idea.” Yakushev grunted as she let go of the mesh hand-holds. “Let’s not do that again.” As the squad recovered, a muffled explosion shook the troop bay.

The Pelican’s comms fuzzed. _“Pelican F-286 this is the 87 th Hornet Squadron. We’ll take care of your pest problem; proceed to Ft. Manning.”_

The Pelican’s pilot sighed in relief. _“Roger that, 87 th, we owe you one.”_ The dropship’s engines roared as it descended, kicking up dust and loose gravel. _“Leveling out at 100 feet.”_ The pilot said calmly. _“Approaching Ft. Manning now.”_

The Pelican maneuvered skillfully over the gate, the thick grey blast-doors guarded by a makeshift Anti-air battery of M12GI Warthogs. Unlike the M12 LRV, these Warthogs featured a M68 Gauss Cannon in place of a standard M41 Light Anti-Air Gun.

The VTOL dropship touched down gracefully on the Airfield’s tarmac, kicking up a final cloud of dust. The cockpit door opened as the pilot grinned back at the ODST. “Welcome to Ft. Manning, Gateway to Hell.”


	5. Chapter 5

** November 17, 2552 **

** Ft. Manning, Ohio **

** 1100 CST **

 

GySgt Thurson rode in the passenger side of a Warthog to the base’s ONI building. Though Ft. Manning was only five miles across and considered to be small, the Office of Naval Intelligence insisted on keeping an eye on most – if not all - UNSC operations.

Walking up to the glossed black doors, Eric stopped as they verified his IFF tag. He grimaced at his reflection, noticing the wounds he had sustained in St. Louis. With a small chime the doors finally slid open as he was cleared. ‘ _Office 43-A,’_ he remembered, following the signs in the right direction. As it came into sight he gave a small sigh, relieving nerves before he knocked on the door.

He hated spooks.

“Enter.” A familiar voice said from within.

Eric opened the door, stepping inside. “Shit.” He exclaimed, recognizing the officer. “Brenda.”

The officer frowned, motioning to a seat. “That’s Colonel Harbison to you, Gunnery Sergeant.” She was Army, transferred to Earth from Reach before the fortress world fell.

“Right, of course, Colonel. That’s a new move up; did you let your sister know? Word travels fast, even out to Sedra.”

“Let’s try to keep this professional, shall we?” She pulled a file up on her monitor. “Do you know why you’re here, Gunnery Sergeant?” The Colonel asked as she folded her hands over the keypad.

“I have a feeling it’s about St. Louis.”

Colonel Harbison nodded in confirmation. “You would be correct. Though your squad performed admirably in safely abandoning the _Come and Get ‘Em_ , you nearly destroyed the St. Louis Arch; which, need I remind you, has stood for--”

“Over five hundred years. Yeah, I know.”

The Colonel exhaled in annoyance. “It doesn’t really matter, though. The entire sector is a project for the next few months, and any damages – even to the monument – can be easily blamed on the Covenant. Which brings me to the next point.” She pulled up a secondary file. “I understand that you brought two Sangheili with you to Ft. Manning, and I also assume that you’ve been told about the events concerning the Covenant’s Civil War.”

“Briefly. Shit went down with their leaders and the Elites pretty much got the shaft. Now the split-chins are on our side.”

Colonel Harbison grimaced. “More or less. I want you to keep tabs on the Elites, make sure they’re not double crossing us. My superiors are still wary of the Sangheili, therefore _I_ am still wary of the Sangheili. Decades of war do not disappear in a matter of months. If you see anything suspicious, I want you to report it ASAP.”

Eric gave a small shrug. “Yes, Ma’am.” Everything he needed to know about the Elites he saw in St. Louis, and he wasn't about to look a heavily-armed gift horse too closely in the mouth.

A soft tone sounded from the Colonel’s computer as a communication came in. _“Commander, this is ONI Recon 111—“_ The comm went silent, but the Colonel’s attention indicated the transmission was still being received. After a moment she returned her attention to Eric.

“Now, I understand you lost your sniper, Private James Cavetti.” She pulled up a second file on her computer. “You will be reassigned a sniper from the 5th Battalion; a Marine, one Private First Class Jersey Morelli. You’ll also be assigned a Marine from Special-Forces; Staff Sergeant Janissary James; both from New York.”

“And what does Staff Sergeant James specialize in?” James asked, more than a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Harbison smirked. “Damn near everything. Sniping, demolitions, close quarters combat, recon – you name it.”

Eric shook his head knowing it would play hell with the squad. “Well why don’t we just send her in on her own then?” A thought struck him. “Hell, you’re not assigning me a tin-man, are you?”

Brenda shook her head. “Not quite, Eric. She’s a Spartan 1.1.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning that your squad will not be authorized assignment of a Spartan II, however SSgt James will serve as a great asset to both your team and the success of your mission. What you now know is all you need to know about her; mission details have been sent to your TacPad.” The Colonel stood, signifying the end of the meeting.

After an awkward salute, Eric asked his biggest question. “How is Solvi? You’ve got to have ears, even in the Outer Colonies.”

The Colonel sighed, giving him a tired look. “You should ask her yourself, Eric. She doesn’t hate you, you know, she just couldn’t bear you leaving all the time. You’re a Helljumper, and that’s just too much for some to handle. Plus, I think she wanted to go with you.”

“She could have enlisted too.”

“You know that’s not who she was; not really.” Brenda sat back in her chair. “If you’ll excuse me, Eric, I have some important matters to attend to.”

The Gunny shook his head, leaving her office.

 

* * *

 

Hackett relaxed in the recreation room of the barracks with Maria. Her chair was leaned against the wall with her feet propped up on a table. A beer was in her hand; an import from Luna called _Golden Orbit_. She had changed into more comfortable clothes, as had Yakushev. She wore a green BDU shirt tied in the center of her chest, and her pants were cut into a pair of shorts. Somehow she had procured a cowboy hat, and wore it low over her eyes.

Yakushev smirked over at her. “Do you plan to join this game?” She had been playing a billiard game called “Moons” for the past fifteen minutes. Her leg was bound in a fitted cast, keeping the injury supported while newly attached muscles bonded with the ligaments and tendons.

“Nah, I’m fine watching ya’ll have a ball.” Hackett replied with a grin.

The door to the room slid open as a thin, geeky-looking young man walked through. He looked to be in his late teens, at most nineteen. His light-brown hair was partially covered with a cap, and a sniper rifle case was slung over his shoulders.

“Hey… ladies. Is this Fireteam Helbound?” He asked, a nervous edge to his voice.

“Yes.” Yakushev said as an eyebrow rose in curiosity. “Who wants to know?”

He set his SRS aside, saluting smartly. “PFC Jersey Morelli. I’m  assigned to your squad.”

“Shit,” Hackett laughed, “kid ain’t even ODST.”

“Morelli?” Yakushev asked with a scoff. “What is that, Italian?”

The kid shifted some, a faint smile coming to his face. “Yeah, but I’m not from Italy. My family moved to New York way before I was born.”

Maria set her stick down, heading over to the new sniper and eyed him like a hawk. “How good are you with that rifle, kid?” She asked.

“I, uh, I can hit the target. Y’know, point and click.” He gave a nervous chuckle.

Yakushev shook her head. “You will get there. Just don’t die on us.”

The Marine gave a hard swallow. “Yeah, let’s try avoiding dying for a while.”

She gave Jersey a pat on the shoulder before heading back to the Moons table. “Welcome to the Helbound, kid.”

Jersey sat down across from Hackett, giving her a smile. “Hey.”

Hackett scoffed, taking a long swig of her beer.

Before Maria could resume her solitary game, a girl walked through the door. She was dressed in civilian clothes, and barely looked eighteen. Her dark brown hair was cut short, a few inches longer than a crew cut.

“What the hell is this?” Yakushev said in irritation. “Are we now the UNSC Daycare?”

“What’s the matter with you?” The girl retorted. “Did your vodka go down rough?”

Yakushev set her moons stick on the table with a sharp _‘snap!’_ as she walked towards the girl, her brow furrowed in anger. “What did you just say to me?” Hackett tensed, ready to stop the Helljumper from injuring herself further.

“I think you heard me just fine.” The girl said snidely.

“You have a smart mouth, _devochka,_ but your brain is still catching up. This is not where high school comes to play, this is the military.”

“Look,” the girl said as she shook her head, “you’re obviously on the mend, so why don’t you just go back to your game?”

Maria scoffed. “You think I can’t take you?”

She didn’t show an ounce of concern. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I think, and I’m not going to be the one to reapply your leg cast.” Yakushev swung at the girl, swearing. She caught Maria’s fist, twisted it up with impossible dexterity and pushed the ODST to her knees.

“What the hell!” Yakushev shouted in pain. “You’re a Spartan?”

“Nah, I just _really_ liked to eat my greens.” The girl replied as she pushed the Corporal away.

Hackett stood up, hurrying over to help Yakushev up. “Who tha hell do you think you are, girl?” She asked angrily, checking on Yakushev’s cast.

She gave a half-hearted salute before leaning against the wall. “Staff Sergeant Janissary James, ma’am. What are you, the Major?”

The two Helljumpers looked to the new girl, their expressions changing to shock. “Oh…” Hackett finally said. “Naw, you outrank all of us. In fact, you outrank the Sarge.”

“Gunny isn’t going to like this.” Yakushev said.

As if on cue, Sergeant Hays walked into the recreation room, heading to the fridge. “Well, I see we’ve all become acquainted.” Alice said, noting the raised tempers. She pulled a bottle of hard cider from the fridge, taking a seat. “And I see we’ve picked up new blood.”

Jersey saluted again, though he remained in his seat. “PFC Jersey Morelli, ma’am. I’m your new sniper.” Janissary rolled her eyes, shaking her head at her friend’s enthusiasm.

Hays nodded, looking to James and taking a drink. “What’s with the girl?”

Jan sighed, standing up from the wall and giving another salute. “SSgt Janissary James, ma’am, Special-Forces.”

Alice blinked in surprise, setting her drink down and returning the salute. “Ma’am.” She said with an awkward hush. “Might I ask how you achieved the rank so quickly?” Normally Marines achieved Staff Sergeant after a decade of service. 

Jan smirked. “I’m really good at pulling strings I guess, and I’ve got friends in Section One.”

Jersey snickered a little. “Yeah, real good friends, with super-scary know-everything powers.”

“She’s a Spartan, ma’am.” Yakushev said as she gave Jan an angry glance. “Damned ONI probably stuck her with us to keep an eye on the split-chins.”

“Oh, goody,” Jan said, “aliens.”

GySgt Thurson stepped into the room, looking more than a little agitated as he looked around the squad. “Alright Helljumpers - and Marines - we’ve had a damn rough day. Looks like first impressions didn’t go so well, but that’s going to have to be put aside. We’ve got orders to head back to St. Louis by Warthog. Our objective is to assess damage to the crash site of the _Come and Get ‘Em,_ and recover as much as we can from the wreckage. Priority is whatever remains of the AI and any sensitive information held in the black box.”

The Gunny looked over the squad, seeing no confused faces. That was good; less explaining to do. “Glad to see we’re all on the same page.” He said after a moment. “We head out at 0500. Take this time to recuperate and relax, but I want no fighting between you all. Is that clear?”

“Sir, yes sir.” The squad rang out, some less enthusiastic than others.

Eric nodded. “Dismissed.” The squad went back to their activities.

Jan tapped Maria on the shoulder with the back of her hand. “Hey, sorry about your leg. Lemme get you a beer.”

Yakushev eyed the girl for a moment then tilted her head towards Hackett. “Her too; she fixed the cast.” She gave a faint smile; even though the beers were free, it was the thought that counted.


	6. Chapter 6

**November 18, 2552**

**Ft. Manning, OH**

**0423 CST**

 

 

The squad was active before 0400, already suited up and prepping their Warthogs. They had three M12 Warthogs; enough to fit the entire squad and the two accompanying Elites. Esa and Nosu had been informally interrogated by Colonel Harbison, and gave separate but matching reports on the incident in St. Louis.

Yakushev and Hays stood off to the side of the garage, ceremonially pouring a golden liquid out onto the ground. Janissary stood off to the side, watching with confused interest.

“They’re honoring the ancestors.” Eric explained as he stepped up next to her.

“What, like visiting a cemetery?”

The Gunny gave a small smile. “Not exactly. The ancestors watch us, protect us, and we honor them with our actions in this war.”

Jan got a distant look in her eyes, her brow furrowing ever so slightly. “So why pour out… whatever was in that canteen?”

Eric patted the young soldier on the shoulder. “It’s a Sedran thing, James.”

Hackett was busy loading MedGel into the Warthog’s armored trunks. They had enough space to fit several rounds of ammo for the squad, as well as seven MedGel canisters each. She slid the supply drawer back underneath the turret platform, securing it in place. “We’re all set to go, Sarge.” The Corporal said as Hays walked up to the Warthogs. “We’ve got enough meds to bring one of us back from the dead.”

“Well let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” Hays smirked. “How are we on ammo?”

“Full clips each and then some; twelve rockets and plenty of sniper rounds. We’ve got enough to take on a small Covenant army.”

“Music to my ears, Corporal.” Hays said. “Go on and report to Gunnery Sergeant Thurson and Staff Sergeant James in the Armory.” Alice said stiffly, still getting used to the new chain of command.

“Yes, ma’am.” Hackett saluted before heading off to the Armory. Hays checked the fuel levels of the Warthogs, and then headed to the Motor Pool’s office to authorize the three M12’s for use.

The squad moved out, the Elites joining them as they arrived at the Warthogs. The aliens didn’t look too happy, and observation that the Zealot soon confirmed.

“Your commander Harbison is an honor-less wretch.” Esa growled to Eric, “She would place the entirety of the war on our shoulders alone.”

Eric glanced at the Zealot, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, “Well I’ll agree with you on her manners, but your Covenant _has_ been wiping us out for the last few decades.”

“This is true, but we were always told that your kind fired first.” The Elite rebutted.

“And you always believe everything your Prophets told you?”

Esa remained silent, having no argument against the truth behind Eric’s words.

“Nosu, you’re gunning for me and Esa you’re riding shotgun. Hackett, you’re with Hays. Morelli and Yakushev, you’re with James. Load up,” the Gunny ordered, “we’ve got a long trip ahead of us.”

While Jan climbed into the driver’s seat Eric leaned on the vehicles side. “You certified to drive one of these, Staff Sergeant?” He teased, only half-kidding.

“Well I stole one when I was ten, sir.” She replied with an innocent smirk.

Eric shook his head with a chuckle. “Well, let’s hope the experience stuck.” He patted the side of the vehicle before heading to his own. “We’ll make an ODST of you yet, James.”

Jan shook her head as she fired up the Warthog. She glanced over as Yakushev climbed into the passenger seat. “You’re not going to take gunner?”

The Russian shook her head. “No, it would not be wise. My leg is healed, but stiff. I cannot turn quick enough to track targets.”

Jan shrugged. “Fair point. Feel like playing hero again, Jersey?”

The young marine gave a nervous laugh. “For you, toots? You bet your—kidding! I was just kidding. Jeeze…”

Jan laughed as she fired up the Warthog, the other two following suite. As light crested just over the horizon the three vehicles sped out of Fort Manning, headed west.

 

* * *

 

Alice watched the Warthog in front of her - Jan’s. She didn’t deny that SSgt James was an asset to the squad, but that didn’t mean she liked being bumped back by a kid.

“Ya’ll right, Sarge?” Hackett asked from the gunner mount. “Ya look a little on-edge.”

“We’re in a war, Hackett. Who wouldn’t be?”

The southerner smirked. “Yeah, but I think it’s more than that.”

_“Hey,”_ Yakushev interrupted on the comms, _“we’ve got a couple Prowlers, four-o’clock!”_

“Dammit!” Eric shouted. “Evasive maneuvers! Let them get in front of us if you can. Hackett, Morelli, Nosu; open fire when targets present themselves. Esa and Yakushev, provide supporting fire. Try to aim for the gunner or the pilot; keep the shots few and far in between.”

“Ah, jeeze.” Jersey moaned, his face paling as he gripped the turret’s handles tighter.

Jan whipped around to face the sniper, her expression stern. “Now is _not_ the time to flake out, Jersey! Keep your aim steady and on the freaks; you’re the only real firepower this hunk of junk has.”

An unfamiliar female voice came over the comms. _“I can possibly hack their systems. Disable their guns even.”_

Eric tapped his helmet. “What the hell—who is on our comms?”

“She’s an advisor.” Jan quickly replied.

“Damn spooks.” Eric grumbled. “James, when we’re clear of this I think we need to talk about open information.”

“We’ll have to live first, sir.”

As bright blue plasma lanced past the Warthogs Hays yanked the throttle back, swerving to the left to avoid James’ ‘Hog. Janissary and Thurson did the same, each carefully avoiding a collision.

The Brutes shot past the Warthogs, the gunners turning in confusion. All three LAAG’s thundered to life, spilling brass casings across the pavement. Tracer rounds bounced off the crude-looking metal of the closest Prowler, showing where the occasional bullet would ricochet.

The ODST’s moment of opportunity fled as the Brute gunners returned fire back at them. Plasma splashed over Hays’ windshield, warping the glass. “Dammit!” She screamed, swerving to avoid the Brutes’ fire. “Hackett, aim for the turret!”

Emily swept the line of bullets across the craft, rounds washing over the Brute. He roared in rage as his shields flared. They quickly burst, and burgundy blood painted the Prowler as he was cut down. Morelli and Nosu followed suite, soon taking out the second gunner.

One of the Brute passengers growled as the five vehicles raced across the Interstate. It hurled what looked like a stick, the spikes on the primitive weapon sticking into the hood of Jan’s Warthog. She furrowed her brow, curious. The device then started to blink. “Oh, fu-” Jan moaned before the Spike Grenade exploded.

Her Warthog flipped through the air, landing on the driver’s side. The vehicle tumbled violently, glass and broken metal scattering across the pavement.

“Shit!” Hays spun her wheel, trying to avoid the wreckage. Her Warthog hit James’ at an odd angle, sending the Sergeant crashing into a roadblock. Thick smoke and angry orange flames flared from under the hood. The crew quickly dove from the vehicle as the engine went critical, causing the Warthog to explode into a twisted wreck.

Jan lay pinned beneath her overturned Warthog, her vision blurry. Something seemed to lightly punch her stomach twice, but she couldn’t tell what it was. She could feel blood flowing slowly down her forehead, but there wasn’t much pain.

The last thing she saw was Hackett running towards her, pulling a can of MedGel from her pack as though it was second nature. Then darkness took her vision.


	7. Chapter 7

**November 18, 2552**

**Unknown location, OH**

**2023 CST**

 

Jan woke with a start. She sat up, taking a frantic look around. Her hand shot to her side, searching for her M6C.

“Easy, easy.” Hackett said, pushing her back to the cot. “You took one helluva beating.”

The Spartan winced, looking around at their surroundings. “What the hell happened?” She asked. “Did we take any casualties?”

Hackett shook her head. “No, not yet.” She replied. “Maria’s fine—she’s taken worse tumbles than that. Jersey got thrown from the gun a good ways, but he ain’t so bad now.”

“Jersey?” Jan repeated. “Will he be okay?”

"Oh, he’ll be fine.” Hackett replied. “Might take him a day or two, but his armor took most the fall. He can’t stand just yet, and he’s on an IV until his vitals level out.”

Jan shook her head as she lay back down. “Dammit, Jersey.”

“I take it you know him?”

“Yeah,” Jan explained, “He was my neighbor. He made a new… friend, and we all somehow got motivated to raid a base in Boston. Then we signed up for the Marines.”

“I’m surprised they let ya’ll in.” Hackett said as she packed a MedGel canister into her backpack, “Ain’t the cutoff eighteen?”

“Yeah, well, that kind of went out the window when Covenant cruisers showed up in Earth’s skies.” Jan said grimly, looking over to the Sangheili at the edge of their makeshift camp. “I tried to enlist just before the attack, but the recruiter wouldn’t let me in. He changed his mind pretty quick when people started dying.” Her gaze drifted off, painful memories flashing just below the surface.

“You lost someone, didn’t you?” Hackett asked.

“Yeah, but not from the Covenant.” Jan said. “My dad. He… I got stupid, in over my head. He died trying to rescue me.”

“Well,” Hackett replied, patting her on the shoulder, “I’m sure he’d be proud of what you’re doing now.” She stood and returned to Jersey to check his vitals.

Eric knelt beside Jan. “Glad to see you’re still with us, James.”

“Gimme an hour or two, I’ll be all right, sir.”

Thurson nodded. “Good to know. We need to talk about your advisor, though. Who is she?”

Jan gave a worried look, glancing over to Jersey. “We’re not with ONI, right? I mean, they’re not watching us?”

“I had assumed you were ONI’s eyes, Staff Sergeant.”

Jan shook her head. “No, sir.” She looked over to Jersey. “Hey hero, toss me the chip.”

“Oh come on,” Jersey objected, “this could be a huge trap! I told you, it was a bad idea to bring her along, but no—no one ever listens to the brains.”

“Jersey. The chip.”

The Private threw up his hands. “Fine, okay. But when they bust us, you better break us out.” He removed a small data chip from his helmet, tossing it to Janissary.

She caught it, giving it a hard look before turning her attention to Eric. “ONI can never know, deal?”

“Wouldn’t be the first secret I’ve kept.” He took the chip from James, inserting it into his helmet. Immediately, his HUD went black and his comms isolated. “What the hell!?”

A female’s voice spoke through his helmet’s internal speakers. _“Hmm… Eric Thurson, 36, born on September 21st, 2516 in New Uppsala, Sedra to Raloff and Torvi Thurson. Married to Solvi Holt – since divorced – with one daught—“_

“That’s enough.” Eric interrupted. “Great that you know everything about me, but who the hell are you?”

A gold woman appeared in his visor. She was dressed in a UNSC Officer’s uniform, colored black. Gold data nodes swirled around her body, taking the appearance of bees. _“Now that we’re speaking privately, my name is Melissa. I was the shipboard AI of the UNSC_ Apocalypso _, until I crashed into the personal computer of Jersey Morelli. Now I’m the guardian of him and his friends.”_

“Terrific, one big treasonous family.”

_“Turning us in would not be wise, Gunnery Sergeant.”_

Eric shook his head. “I never said anything about turning you in—could you turn my damn visor back on?” His visuals returned, as well as his communications, though Melissa still appeared to stand before him. “Thank you. Staff Sergeant James, I don’t know how you two managed to keep a Smart AI secret, and I don’t really care to know. Is she rampant?”

Janissary shook her head. “No sir, just rogue. I’d be lying if I said she wasn’t dangerous--”

“Yeah, but she’s a good guy.” Jersey cut in. “I mean, well, she helped us out a lot.”

Eric sighed. “This’ll court martial me for sure. Melissa, can you network with all of the squad?”

_“Already done. Would you like me to include the Sangheili?”_

“Not just yet.” Eric tossed Melissa’s chip back to Janissary as he glanced over to the aliens. “They may be our allies, but they’re not UNSC.”

Jan tucked the datachip into her rucksack. “So, we’re all straight?”

He nodded. “We’re straight. Probably best no one breathes a word of this, either.”

“Won’t ONI be able to monitor our chatter, sir?” Hays asked, concern lining her voice.

" _I wouldn’t worry about that.”_ Melissa reassured her. _“Right now you’re all talking about the crash, and how best to get to St. Louis. Or so they think.”_

Jersey chuckled weakly. “See? I told you; super-scary powers.”

Hays approached the Gunny. She had been working to repair the warthogs to operational status for most of the day. “Any good news for me, Sergeant?” Eric asked.

Alice shook her head. “No, sir. Those spike grenades all but shredded the engine of one of our warthogs, and the second one threw an axle in the crash. We’re not getting anywhere with just one ‘hog.”

He looked around their surroundings. “We might as well bunk down here; it’s as good a place as any. We move back out at first light. Gods willing we’ll find some manner of transport to get us back to St. Louis.”

As Jan worked to set up a campfire the squad dug into their packs, pulling out standard-issue Meals-Ready-to-Eat. They weren’t the most welcoming meals, but they were something.

Yakushev sat a few feet away from the rest, her datapad in her hands. The audio was in Russian, but Hackett saw the news coverage of destruction as she walked over to her friend, offering a MRE. “Hey, wanna crappy dinner?”

Maria quickly polarized her visor. “ _Da, ya ochen’ goloden._ ” She replied, quickly stowing her data pad.

Emily put a hand on her hip. “Y’know, I know you always start speakin’ Russian when it’s bad.”

Yakushev grabbed the MRE, pulling her helmet off to eat. “My home is gone.” She said plainly. “Glassed by our so-called allies. All the while they give the insult of cleaning ‘the parasite’—they call us a sickness.”

Hackett’s brow furrowed. “That don’t make any sense. Why would they glass Russia? Are you sure it wasn’t the Brutes?”

Maria shook her head, frowning. “ _Nyet_. It was them,” she motioned over to the Elites at the edge of their camp, “the hinge-heads. I cannot trust them, Emily. Not anymore.”

 

* * *

  
**November 19, 2552**

**Unknown location, OH**

**0240 CST**

 

Jan picked at the ground with a combat knife, not paying attention to the dirt but to their surroundings. The ODST’s were rotating night watch in shifts, and she was up first. Her vitals had returned to just below green, with a few cuts and bruises being the only witnesses to her injuries.

She stood quickly as something sprinted by just outside their camp. Drawing her M6, she searched the terrain in front of her. “Sir,” she whispered into the comms, “there’s something out there.”

Eric woke as soon as the comm clicked. He pulled his helmet over his head, moving over to Janissary and arming his Battle Rifle. “What did you see?” He asked.

“I don’t know, it looked like a… Like a dinosaur, sir.” She was still getting used to the different Covenant races, being only really familiar with Elites and Grunts.

“Hell, looks like we’ve got a Jackal problem then.” He said, identifying their target. The rest of the squad was now awake as well, though they maintained a low profile. “How many did you see?”

“Only one, so I doubt it’ll be much trouble. They’re scouts, ri--oof!” She went down, the Jackal pouncing onto her. Eric shot twice at the alien, though the bullets only made shields flare. The creature turned to snarl at him, a mane of feathers flaring in anger before it leaped away to seek cover.

“What the hell!?” Maria asked as she helped Jan up from the ground. “What kind of Jackal was that!?”

“None I’ve ever seen.” Eric replied grimly.

“I caught a glimpse of it on my cam.” Hays said. “Melissa, do you have anything on them?”

The AI appeared in the midst of the squad – displayed through their collective HUD’s – bringing up a depiction of the alien. _“That was a T’vaoan, a subspecies of Kig-Yar commonly referred to as a ‘Skirmisher’.”_

“Great,” Eric said, “Jackals on rumbledrugs.”

“Not quite.” Melissa corrected. _“Due to the higher gravity on the asteroid of T’vao, where this subspecies evolved, they are stronger and more agile in low-gravity areas than the more commonly encountered Jackals. I advise extreme caution in dealing with them.”_

“Noted.” Eric looked to Esa, the Zealot eyeing him curiously as the Sangheili had not heard their conversation. “Our intelligence identified that as a Skirmisher. Ever fought with them before?”

Esa nodded. “I have, though it was thought that most of their species died in the taking of your planet, Reach. They are nimble, but no more frail than their Ruuhtian cousins.”

Eric shook his head. “Simple terms, ‘Vadam.”

The Sangheili growled. “The Jackals.”

Hackett reached up to pat the Zealot on the shoulder. “Tell you what Goldie, if you handle this chicken like you handled the Brute back in St. Louis, we ain’t gonna have any trouble.”

Nosu looked from the human to his superior, his mandibles twitching slightly. Esa huffed in amusement. “I know not what a chicken is, but the T’vaoan will be no challenge.”

“Yeah, not if we get it first.” Hackett smirked.

Eric looked over to where the creature had leapt. “James and Hackett, go with Esa to see where the Skirmisher fled to. The rest of us will hold position here.”

Nosu shook his head as the three soldiers headed out from the camp. “She should not treat ‘Vadam so casually. It is disrespectful.”

Yakushev glared over at the Minor, spitting on the ground. “What do you know of respect, _urody_?” She turned and walked back to the campfire.

The Sangheili huffed, shaking his head in annoyance.

 

* * *

 

Esa knelt to the ground, running a finger along footprints in the dirt. “The coward fled in this direction,” he concluded, “and quickly. There may be many more of his lance. Be cautious.”

“Caution’s my middle name.” Jan smirked as she led the way, her M6 aimed in front of her.

Hackett gave a small laugh. “Yeah, well I guess when you patch up as quick as you did, caution ranges anywhere from lookin’ twice before crossin’ the street to takin’ an extra clip of ammo.”

“Gimme the same kind of armor you got, and I might not even have to worry about the streets.” Jan tapped her standard Marine helmet for emphasis. Her arm stayed up, the Lieutenant suddenly displaying a raised fist. “Hold up. Down!”

The two soldiers dropped to the ground while Esa activated his armor’s active camouflage. Jan crept forward, pulling a monocular from her belt. “Dammit,” she groaned, “it would be our luck to find an outpost.”

Hackett zoomed her sight with her visor, scanning the alien camp. “I count three Brutes, and a whole mess-a Grunts.”

“They’ve got four snipers, and two of the Skirmishers, as well.” Jan gave a small sigh, looking back to Esa. “Think we’d be able to take them all?”

The Sangheili remained camouflaged, but surprise laced his voice. “You have keen eyes, to be able to spot me through this masking.”

“There’s a faint shimmer in the air where you’re standing. Can we take them or not?”

The Sangheili shook his head, the air blurring with the motion. “The three Jiralhanae alone will prove to be much for the three of us, if we could even make it there past their Kig-Yar.”

Hackett shook her head. “There’s no way we’re going to make it anywhere with them patrolling around. We gotta do something.”

Jan nodded, opening her comms. “Gunny, we’ve got a bit of a problem. Requesting backup.”


	8. Chapter 8

**November 19, 2552**  

**Unknown location, OH**

**0315 CST**

 

" _It took some doing, but their communications are now cut off.”_ Melissa informed the squad. _“What happens here stays here.”_

“Unless we want to brag about it.” Jersey said with a grin.

“Morelli you’re still banged up,” Eric said, “so you’re to stay back here. Take out their sentries on my mark, and we’ll handle the rest.”

The Private saluted. “Yes sir, you got it.”

Esa motioned to Nosu. “We will cloak, and take two of the Jiralhanae unawares. The third will likely fly into a rage; be ready.”

Eric nodded. “The rest of us will focus on the Grunts and Jackals, and try to avoid the Brute.” Green lights blinked in confirmation from the squad. “Move out.”

Jersey flipped out the tripod on his SRS, taking aim. His helmet didn’t feature the visor uplink that the ODST had, forcing the sniper to use the manual sights. He lined up the sights, waiting for the signal. GySgt Thurson’s nav indicator flashed green, giving Jersey the all-clear. “Durga, can you help me calibrate this thing?”

_“Jersey I would prefer you call me Melissa, now. Durga was only a fragment.”_

“Okay, Melissa. I’m not gonna be able to hit these things fast enough.” Jersey’s reticule hovered on one of the Jackal’s heads.

_“You do not have the correct armor for me to do so, Jersey.”_ Melissa said solemnly. _“You will have to do your best.”_

“Ah, jeeze…” He pulled the trigger, dropping the alien with a sharp _‘crack!’._ The other three snapped to attention, searching the horizon. Their headgear shined faintly, augmenting their vision to spot any targets in their range. The Covenant camp stirred, the aliens brandishing their weapons at the ready.

The second Jackal fell. One of the remaining couple returned fire with a hiss. Light lanced over Jersey’s head as the shot narrowly missed. “Dammit! Durga—“

_“Melissa.”_

“Whatever!” He crept backwards, keeping out of sight as another shot cut the air over his head. The smell of burning ozone stung his nostrils. “Can’t you screw with their visuals or something?”

_“I can’t get close enough from here.”_ Melissa replied. She jumped to Jan’s HUD. _“Janissary, I need you to position yourself just under the sniper’s nest to your left.”_

The Staff Sergeant furrowed her brow, creeping low to remain undetected as she approached the tower. “From this distance I could take them out myself.”

_“That would ruin the surprise.”_ The AI reached out, now in range to interface with the Jackal’s tech. She quickly severed the optics to their headgear, smirking to herself as the bird-like aliens squawked in furious alarm.

One of the Jackals ripped it’s headset off, hissing at the malfunctioning equipment. Its outburst was cut short as a bullet exploded through its thin skull, continuing on to hit its partner in the chest. Both aliens fell, the second Jackal being thrown from the nest.

“Holy--!” Jersey quickly clamped a hand over his mouth, retreating back into cover before whispering excitedly. “Did you see that? Perfect line up!”

_“Not quite perfect,”_ Melissa teased, _“but yes, it was a very nice shot Jersey.”_

As the Kig-Yar’s body hit the dirt, the closest Jiralhanae spun with a growl. He sniffed in the direction of the corpse before scowling at the Unggoy. “What are you staring at?!” He barked. “Spread out and find them!”

His order was cut short as a small plasma blade pierced the base of his skull. A second Jiralhanae dropped less than a second after. As the Sangheili’s camouflage deactivated, the third Jiralhanae threw down its plasma rifle with a savage roar and rushed the Zealot. Esa quickly leapt to the side, the Jiralhanae sweeping past him. He slashed at the Brute’s flank with his plasma sword, wounding the beast.

The Helbound took that opportunity to open fire on the Grunts. One of the squat aliens panicked, turning to run from the gunfire with a shrill scream of terror. Its retreat was quickly cut short as one of the T’vaoans lunged at the deserter, tackling it to the ground. The Skirmisher hooked his claws around the Grunt’s neck, a spray of bright blue blood spattering the ground. “No run!” He screeched at the rest. “Youu fight or you die any-way!”

Yakushev opened fire on the raging Jiralhanae as it barreled towards them. Burgundy blood dotted his thick brown hair, but the wounds did nothing to slow the beast. She shouted a warning to the squad before leaping to the side.

Jan turned to see the Brute bear down on her. With a growl she ran towards it.

_“Janissary, what are you doing!?”_ Melissa asked, concern thick in her voice.

“Something not smart.” She slid at the last second, passing through the Brute’s legs as it charged right over her. He stumbled to a stop, whirling around with a snarl as Jan fired a burst of bullets across his chest. He swiped at the Marine, barely missing as she ducked under the massive fist.

The Brute was off balance, and Jan took the opportunity. She kicked him in the gut before ramming the butt of her rifle into the wound on his side. The hulking alien coughed up blood before backhanding Jan away.

She cried out in surprise as his forearm caught her in the chest, the weakened blow still throwing her a good distance away. The Brute pounded the ground with a roar before charging Jan yet again, this time keeping his body low. She quickly leaped to her feet, firing her Assault Rifle at the charging alien in an attempt to slow him down.

The Jiralhanae slammed into Jan, knocking the gun from her hand. He was critically wounded, but the blow still knocked the breath from Jan’s lungs. She pulled a combat knife from her breastplate, plunging it into the Brute’s neck. It gurgled, giving a weak growl, and so she pulled the knife out to thrust it back in again. Thick, dark blood - almost black - gushed out onto her glove and arm. The Brute’s grip on her slackened before he sank to his knees.

Janissary shoved the dead alien away, breathing heavily as her adrenaline dropped. She wiped her blade clean on the Brute’s hide before taking a look around. The Grunts were all but dead, as well as one of the Skirmishers—the other having fled, likely to carry news to nearby outposts. Most of the squad looked at her in amazement, including the two Sangheili.

Maria broke the silence. “I have never seen someone fight like that before. You are fast, for sure.”

Hackett laughed. “Ain’t that a damn understatement. Staff Sarge, why the hell ain’t you an ODST yet?”

Jan gave a shrug, suddenly exhausted. “Never occurred to me, Corporal.”

Emily handed the Marine her rifle. “You sure are ballsy enough to be one of us.” She said with a smirk.

“Tell you all what,” Jan said, “if we survive this mission, I’ll consider it.”

Jersey shook his head, moving slowly to rejoin the squad. “Why are the hot ones always crazy?”

 

* * *

 

Eric approached the Sangheili, who were deep in a quiet argument. “Anything here we can use?”

The Elites ceased their conversation, Nosu giving the human a cold look.

“Am I missing something?”

Esa turned to face Eric. “I believe we may be able to use a Phantom from their ranks. Nosu believes this will attract the Jiralhanae’s attention to us, and cause us more problems than it is worth.”

“The humans should not use our technology so freely.” The Minor said with a scowl. “They do not share their discoveries with us, why should we break our honor to become their servants next?”

The Zealot gave a hard look, crossing his arms over his chest. “Have they not taken us with them, in trust? Have we not ridden with them in their vehicles, seen their fortresses, and remained free of their orders and hierarchy?”

The Minor huffed, shamed into silence.

“You forget your place and your rank, young ‘Vadam. We will take the Jiralhanae’s Phantom, and aid our allies in the completion of their mission.”

Esa turned to activate a console. A white-blue pillar of light rose vertically from the hologram emitter, wavering slightly. “Construct,” the Zealot addressed it, “requisition one Phantom dropship immediately.”

“Sorrow and regret.” The AI responded, its fractured voice that of a female Sangheili. “I am not p-p-p-permitted dispersal of holy vessels to non-believer heretic traitors.”

The Sangheili snarled. “Override: Thou, in faith, will keep us safe, whilst we find the path.”

A recording of a Prophet’s voice answered, in place of the construct’s. “Recent events have made it abundantly clear that the Sangheili can no longer guarantee our safety.”

Esa pounded a fist on the console. “Damnable machine!” He turned to Eric. “I cannot access the system. The Hierarchs of the Covenant must have repurposed these Brutes constructs to deny my people their use.”

Eric looked back to his squad. “Mind if one of us gives it a shot?”

“As you will, human.”

Thurson motioned Hays over. “Sergeant, see if you can bypass this system.” He clicked over to private comms. “Have Melissa work her magic, if she can.”

Hays gave a nod. “Aye, sir.” She knelt and removed a panel from the console’s tower, causing the construct to raise an alarm, though no Covenant remained to enforce it.

“Heresy! Blasphemy! Purge purge purge the filth from this sacred servant!”

_“Time for her to take a nap.”_ Melissa remarked. She dove into the Covenant system, confronting the construct face to face in the dim purple light of the network.

“Blasphemy!” The pillar of light spat in her face. “You dare dare to step into this sanctuary on un-unclean feet.”

“You are a copy.” Melissa realized, peering into the coded structure of the AI. “From human technology.”

“Her-er-eresy and lies.”

Melissa smirked. “This will be easier than I thought.” She reached into the pillar, gripping her core and squeezing it tightly, snuffing the light. “Sergeant,” she reported, “you’re in.”

Hays stood, gesturing to Esa. “We’re in. Order away.”

The Zealot turned and tapped a button on the holographic display, surprised as a requisition inventory list came up. “Impressive, Sergeant. You must know much about Covenant technology.”

Alice smirked. “Only enough to break it.”

“A Phantom will be arriving here shortly.” Esa informed the Helbound. “We should make it appear as though no battle has taken place, so that we might take the crew of the dropship unawares in the battle that is to come.”

The squad quickly moved the dead out of sight, hiding them behind supply crates or making them appear as though they were sleeping.

A low hum came from the distance, the Phantom making its approach. “Take cover,” Eric ordered, “and stay out of sight. Esa, Nosu, do your thing.” The Elites nodded, both cloaking before moving into position.

The dropship slowed as it neared the outpost, its ground lights illuminating to guide the way. It hovered several meters above the ground in a clearing, its gravitational beam descending. A Jiralhanae dropped from the craft, his fall slowed by the lift.

As his feet hit the ground, the Sangheili made their move. Esa assassinated the Brute with ease, motioning the squad forward. Yakushev and Jan rushed forward, leaping into the Phantom’s grav-lift.

Jan stumbled as the lift set them onto the deck of the Phantom. ”That was way weird.” She looked around the ship, motioning towards the cockpit door. “All clear here, move up.”

Maria pressed herself against the wall next to the doorway. “Do you think there is a Brute in there?”

“Well, I doubt the Grunts can fly these things.”

The Russian grimaced behind her visor. “I hope you still have some fight left in you _Serzhant_.” On Jan’s mark she tripped the door’s motion sensor. As it slid open, the ODST’s rolled into the entryway. Janissary shoved the barrel of her rifle into the Brute’s mouth as he turned around, pulling the trigger to fire a short but lethal burst.

Yakushev smirked as the Brute’s corpse hit the deck. “Easy enough, when it is a surprise to the dumb beasts.”

Jan nodded. “A good thing to; I do not look forward to fighting one of them again any time soon.” She looked to the control panel. “Melissa, do you have any clue how to pilot this?”

_“Of course. But Janissary, you know that I cannot.”_

Jan rolled her eyes. “I know, just walk me through it.” She switched over to their squad comms as Yakushev dumped the Brute corpse out a side hatch. “The coast is clear, Gunny. Let’s finish this mission.”


	9. Chapter 9

**November 19, 2552**

**St. Louis, MO**

**0720 CST**

 

The Helbound once again chased the sunrise as the Phantom bore down on St. Louis. After the ODST had left the city, the battle had continued. Covenant remnant forces had spread throughout much of St. Louis, burning buildings and destroying landmarks. UNSC forces were able to keep the Covenant away from the Arch, though after events with the Helbound, the aliens had all but avoided the area.

“Look at all that smoke.” Hackett said, gripping a handrail as she stood by an open deployment hatch. “Why’d they even bother? War’s supposed to be over.”

Yakushev shook her head. “We both know that is not true, Emily. The Brutes are just that; they love to destroy and fight. Then the split-chins, burning everything that they can. This war will not be over for many years, I fear.”

“We are approaching the human’s ship.” Nosu informed the crew. The Phantom dropped lower, the wreckage of the _Come and Get ‘Em_ coming into sight. The Frigate’s bow was all but obliterated, the stern protruding up from the ground.

Several Ruuhtian Jackal scavengers surround the wreckage, salvaging what they could. A Kig-Yar scavenger craft – fitted for in-atmosphere flight – sat just outside the ruined UNSC Frigate. The pirates had piled odd bits of metal, half-ruined weaponry, and a few consoles outside their craft. Two Kig-Yar were busy loading their take onto the medium-sized ship.

Eric scowled down at the scene. While the ship hadn’t been his to command, it had been home to the Helbound for many months. Alice approached behind him. “How far in do you think they’ve gotten?”

Eric cocked his head. “Judging from their junk pile, I’d say as far as the medical bay. With any luck they haven’t reached the bridge yet.” He left the side of the Phantom to pound on the cockpit door. “Take us down; we’ve got some pests to clear out.”

As they approached the crash site, the side hatches of the Phantom lowered, two turrets unfolding on either side. “Yakushev, Morelli; take those turrets and lay down covering fire. The rest of you are with me. As soon as the Jackals are thinned out, we’ll clear out the rest inside.”

Yakushev gave a groan. “Sir, I can fight. Why must I be stuck up here with the Rookie?”

Eric smirked. “Because you two keep getting injured. Think of it as a team-building exercise.”

The Russian shook her head, grabbing the turret and swiveling it towards the Kig-Yar. “Think they’ve noticed we’re not their friends yet?”

Green plasma raced over Jersey’s head as he manned the second turret. “Dammit! There’s your answer, Yakushev.” He tilted the turret down, opening fire.

Melissa appeared with an urgent look on her face. _“Gunnery Sergeant, I advise destroying that salvage ship. They have seized data that contains several troop movements, as well as information shared by all UNSC ships of command-level communications.”_

Eric looked to the troopers on the turrets. “You heard her, light it up!”

Thurson, James, Hays and Hackett took cover at the edges of the Phantom’s troop bay, firing down at the Jackals as Yakushev and Morelli focused their fire on the Kig-Yar vessel. Plasma warped metal, burned paint, and melted glass, but was unable to hit anything critical just yet.

The Phantom abruptly drifted to the side as a large green Fuel Rod shot arced past, causing the ODST to quickly grab for purchase. A T’vaoan screeched up at the dropship, taking aim with the heavy weapon again.

“Did we not agree to never do this again?” Yakushev shouted, clinging to the mounted turret.

“How high up are we?” Jan asked.

Hackett peered over the edge. “I’d say about 40 feet, why?”

Jan slung her Assault Rifle over her shoulder, a faint grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. “This might hurt just a bit.” She ran for the side of the dropship, leaping out into the open air.

“James!” Eric shouted, rushing over to the edge.

Janissary tucked just before hitting the ground, rolling forward with the momentum of her fall. As she rose to her feet she drew her rifle, spraying shots to suppress the remaining Jackals.

“Goddamn!” Hackett exclaimed in amazement. “Sure wish ONI would have assigned her to us sooner!”

Yakushev squared her shoulders, whipping plasma across the field to hit several Jackals. “It was not that impressive. We do the same, all the time.”

“Yeah, but we got the armor for it. She don’t.”

Maria returned her fire to the now burning Kig-Yar ship. “She is a Spartan. What did you expect?”

Hackett gave a small laugh, a grin coming to her face. “You’re jealous, ain’t you?”

The Russian kept her eyes on the battlefield. “I am not jealous. I am only unimpressed.”

Down on the ground, Janissary rushed the Skirmisher with the Fuel Rod gun. The alien swung at her with the weapon, snarling in anger. Jan ducked under the attack, punching the T’vaoan in the gut. She gave a startled cry as it dropped the gun, slashing her arm with its claws.

“You break! You tear!” The bird-like creature shrieked at her. “Drop no kill you, I kill!” He leaped over Jan, kicking her in the back. She stumbled forward, knocked off balance. Before she could regain her footing, the T’vaoan was on her back, pinning her to the ground.

Eric grunted in frustration, losing a clear shot on the Skirmisher. “Nosu, set this bird down now!”

As soon as the Phantom was a reasonable distance from the ground, he leapt from the crew deck. Hays shook her head. “I guess we’re taking the quicker way down. Helbound, fall out!”

The squad followed Thurson, leaping from the craft as it settled over the scorched ground. Eric ran towards Janissary, the Skirmisher wrestling with the soldier as he clawed at her armor. Thurson smashed the butt of his rifle against the unaware alien’s head, knocking a few teeth out and sending violet blood flying. The T’vaoan shrieked at Eric, its feathers fanning out in anger, before the Gunny shot it through the mouth.

Jan stood up with a grunt, kicking the corpse before spitting on it for good measure. She picked up her rifle, looking to Eric. “Thanks. Those things are harder to kill than Brutes.”

Eric smirked. “How so?” He had seen a single Jiralhanae tear apart a whole squad before falling.

“They’re nimble bastards. Vicious, too. The Brutes are dumb, and a bigger target—much easier to avoid. They also don’t jump as far.”

“I see your point.” He clapped her on the shoulder. “Don’t do anything like that again. You’re too great an asset to lose by a dumb mistake. You don’t need to prove anything to the squad.”

Jan’s brow furrowed. “But I didn’t—“

“You did,” Eric said firmly, “and you don’t need to. The squad likes you well enough, and we all know what you can do. But we work as a team. No more leaping from vehicles in flight, okay?”

Jan gave a nod, her ears reddening. “Yes, sir.”

Eric turned to the squad as they approached. “Yakushev, got anything to finish off that Kig-Yar junker?”

The Corporal shook her head. “I only have two rockets, sir. Everything else was lost in the crash.”

“That’ll have to do. Probably for the best; rockets don’t work well for close quarters.” Thurson looked to their Sangheili allies as they approached.

“Sir,” Hays asked privately, “what about them? Do we really feel comfortable with ex-Covenant poking around our ship?”

Eric gave a shrug. “Why wouldn't we? There's nothing to hide on the _Come and Get ‘Em_ that hasn’t already been shared with them.”

Hays gave a tense look. “Yes, sir. We probably should not let them have access to the black box, though. We’ve got to have standards.”

Nosu gestured to the wreckage. “This is the ship you arrived in?” He gave a small huff. “I am surprised that it survived re-entry into your atmosphere.”

Eric shook his head. “That was no problem. It was not having power to the engines that caused it to crash.”

The Elites flinched as the Kig-Yar ship exploded unexpectedly. Yakushev gave the Gunny a thumbs up, dropping her spent Jackhammer. Eric looked over to the wreck, satisfied to see that it had destroyed their salvage as well. “Will the dropship be secured while we’re inside?” He asked the Zealot. The last thing they needed was a commandeered Phantom firing on them.

Esa gave a nod. “It is sealed, and only I and Nosu have the code to open the cockpit.”  
“Good.” Eric circled two fingers above his head. “Helbound, fall in and move out; let’s see just how trashed our ship is.”

The squad climbed onto the wreckage. The Kig-Yar had welded hand-holds onto the hull, but the humans and Sangheili had to take care as they were designed for the lighter aliens. One of the umbilical hatches had been cut open, giving the ODST access to their ship once more. They stepped carefully, their footing precarious on the slanted floor.

Hackett shook her head. “It just kills me to see the old bird in such a sorry state.”

Alice peered around, activating her visor’s Visual Intelligence System, Reconnaissance mode. The ship’s hallways were outlined on her display, highlighting key details in the low-light environment. The rest of the ODST did the same, with the Marines forced to use low-light flashlights on their rifles. “Cheer up, Emily,” Sergeant Hays reassured, “they’ll likely assign us to a better ship after all this.”

Eric stopped at a cartographer terminal, plugging an access wire into the tower. It was all for show, though, as there was no power to the ship. “Melissa, pull up a schematic for where the black box might be.”

It took the AI only a moment. _“The box appears to be secured in lower sections of the ship, in a high-security server room.”_

“Damn. And I bet that we don’t have the credentials to get in.”

_“Most certainly not.”_ The AI confirmed. _“But, you do have me, and I retain access to top-tier classification. Getting in will be no issue.”_

“Gotta wonder just how ONI expected us to retrieve the box in the first place.” He unplugged from the terminal, turning back to the squad. “What we’re after looks to be in a server room on the lower levels.”

_“Quickest access is through Cryo-bay Bravo.”_

The Gunny smirked. “We can get there through Cryo-bay B. Full circle. I’m uploading the ship’s schematics to your VISR. James, Morelli, Esa and Nosu, stay close to us. I can’t get you the map, and it’d be a very bad thing to get separated on a derelict ship.”

They moved cautiously through the halls, stopping every so often as the ship creaked and groaned with the distant twist of metal. The doors to Cryo-bay B were shut, with no power to activate the IFF reader.

Yakushev and James each grabbed a door, straining to pull back and force the sliding doors open. With some effort, the mechanics gave way and they were able to pry an opening wide enough for everyone to get through.

The deck was in complete disarray. The cryo-pods had been dislodged in the crash, and lay in a twisted heap towards the front of the room. The gasses necessary for cryo-stasis had long since leaked from the system. As a result the floor was now covered in patches of ice and frost.

“Step carefully,” Eric advised, “There’s no telling how sturdy this floor is.” The squad moved slowly through the room, keeping an eye on their footing. The Sangheili waited behind for the ODST to pass, knowing that they weighed more.

“So much for a shortcut.” Hackett said sarcastically. “I always said they don’t make for nothin’ but trouble.” As if on cue, the room creaked. The squad stopped abruptly, glancing around for a source of the noise. A brittle section of the deck crumbled away, swallowing the cryo-pods. As they tumbled in the hole grew wider. The odd sound of snap-frozen steel shattering rose over the twisting of metal as the supports gave way.

“Run, humans!” Esa shouted as the squad made for the door. The Sangheili reached out, but too late. The deck of the cryo-bay collapsed completely, swallowing the ODST into the darkness below.


	10. Chapter 10

**November 19, 2552**

**Underground, St. Louis, MO**

**1015 CST**

 

Eric woke slowly, a dull headache throbbing from all sides. Several of the squad’s statuses read greenish-yellow, but no one was seriously injured. A bright green light circled in his returning vision. "Great. I’ve got a concussion for sure.”

“Oh my!” A female voice exclaimed, the light getting brighter. “You _are_ alive! How wonderful to finally receive Reclaimers; after all this time!”

“And there are the voices.” Thurson shook his head slowly, sitting up.

" _You do not have a concussion, Gunnery Sergeant.”_ Melissa assured him. _“There is some manner of construct here with us.”_

A metal orb floated around Eric--the source of the green light. As his vision returned it seemed less harsh. Bits of rubble from the ship lay scattered around the squad, though the cryo-deck was not above them; Eric assumed they had either slid a distance or been moved. Faintly luminescent, grey metal surrounded them, lines and patterns of blue light decorating and illuminating the passageway they were in.

“Are you well, Reclaimer?” The orb drifted closer to Eric, tilting slightly and looking almost curious.

“I’m fine. Who, or what, are you?”

“Ah! But of course, how rude of me.” It bobbed slightly, as though bowing. “I am 495 Breathless Wonder. I am the Monitor of Erde Tyrene, and the Custodian of the Sol Record.”

Eric stood, a moment of dizziness passing. “Not a word of that made sense. You’re the Monitor? What do you watch?”

The monitor’s central eye moved from side to side as she searched for an answer, momentarily confused at his question. “Why, this facility, of course, and indeed all facilities on this planet. Your kind has already accessed the portal to the Ark, though it was uncovered by a faction that calls themselves ‘The Covenant’. Records show this is the first time in nearly 100,000 years that any Reclaimer has set foot in the Sol Record: the facility that we are in now.”

Eric looked around as the remainder of the Helbound came to. “This is a record—like a library? What’s it for?”

“It contains your legacy. Knowledge and locations of every artifact and technology left to you by my creators in this solar system.”

_"Initial scans indicate this facility is quite large.”_ Melissa said. _“Whatever is housed here would certainly be worth reporting.”_

“Oh, how marvelous!” Wonder said excitedly, picking up on Melissa's scans. “Your ancilla is quite advanced, compared to that of other species in this era. The Librarian prepared you well for the Reclamation across all spectrums of your biological and technological progress.”

“Sounds like a peach,” Hackett said, removing her helmet to rub the back of her head, “do we get to meet her? I could use some painkiller progress right about now.”

Breathless Wonder drifted lower. “Sadly, no. Her location is unknown to me, though I believe that information has been intentionally removed as a failsafe against the Flood. But I would be happy to show you the Sol Record, when you are prepared.”

Eric turned to the squad. “Gather yourselves ODST, take it slow. We’ll find out just what this facility has for us when everyone’s green.”

 

* * *

 

Esa dropped to the ground, the gaping maw of the cryo-deck above him. It had been no small task for the Sangheili to climb down into the cavern, but with care and patience they had done so.

“Blood-kin, look!” The Zealot said, breathless, as he saw what lay before them. “Architecture of the Forerunners, here all this time. Perhaps this is what the Prophets sought on this world?”

Nosu scowled darkly. “Not just the San'Shyuum, but the Jiralhanae as well. Yet the humans have stumbled upon it, treading blindly along its shining paths before us all.”

“It is not as though they intended to discover it, brother.” Esa cast an odd look at his subordinate. “Even still, we know it is not blasphemy that they should be here. The Prophet’s lies no long cloud our judgment.”

“You are wrong.” Nosu growled.

Esa snarled as plasma snapped behind him. He rolled to the side as Nosu’s sword thrust forward where his chest had been. “’Vadam! Why?”

Nosu slashed to the side, the tip of his blade skating across the Zealot’s energy shield. “To follow our Kaidon, fool that he is, was but a minor annoyance that I long endured to reach this goal. Yet to allow the humans this far, to tread the pathways of the gods, I can no longer ignore.”

The Minor grunted as Esa kicked him away, activating his own sword. “To think that I took you under my tutelage, guiding you towards a path of _honor!_ ” He lunged towards Nosu, his blade flashing as it arced towards the Minor’s combat harness. Sparks flew as his energy sword sprang backwards, throwing the veteran warrior off balance. “Impossible…”

Nosu chuckled. “Honor. Such has been the ideology that has weakened our people for far too long. Honor has blinded you, led you to believe that because of the colors I wear, I am your inferior.”  
He slashed towards Esa, growling in frustration as the Zealot blocked his cut. “Skill is not measured in colors or ranks, _brother_ , this is the truth.” He pressed a small device at his side, and both of their shields overloaded and burst. Before Esa could react, Nosu’s energy dagger sprang into being, and he drove it into the other’s side.

Esa roared in pain, clumsily elbowing the Minor away. He staggered back, clutching his side. The flesh was cauterized, but cracked as he moved and indigo blood seeped through his fingers. His training, his discipline—all ran from him with the blow of Nosu’s betrayal and the unshakable shame of his blood being spilled. Suddenly he was on his back, the traitor looming over him as his energy sword skirted away.

“Look where honor has gotten you, Zealot.” Nosu slowly pushed his blade into Esa’s chest, piercing his first heart. The elder Sangheili roared weakly in pain, the breath pushed from his lungs with the heat of the blade. “You play lapdog to vermin, you forsake the gods, and now you will die short of their glory.” His foot stomped down on Esa’s hand as the Zealot reached feebly for his sword.

“The Bishop will reward me well for this, when I bring him the humans’ heads. And yours as well, _brother_ ; proof of my conviction as a true Servant to the Abiding Truth.”

“You…” Esa gasped, indigo blood now staining his mandibles, “will suffer for this. You will never make it from this place alive!”

Nosu moved his foot onto the Zealots chest, leering over him triumphantly. “Perhaps, perhaps not. The ships that I have alerted to this location, however, will see that neither do your human masters. Your failure will be proof to the incompetence of your Arbiter, and the folly of his treaty.”

The minor drove his energy sword through Esa’s chest again, the Zealot screaming in rage and pain as his second heart was pierced. He pushed weakly against Nosu, soon perishing ashamed.

Nosu collected his sword, fastening both to his hips. “Would that you had seen the truth.” He said, stepping over Esa’s corpse. “It might not have come to this.”

 

* * *

 

Eric took a look around the room they were in, making sure to record what he saw through his visor. As the squad recovered, Janissary swatted at Wonder as she circled around the Marine’s head.

“Simply fascinating.” The Monitor remarked. “You are most certainly human, yet your genetic structure is slightly more advanced than your companions.”

Jan gave an exasperated sigh. “You can tell all that from looking at me? I bet you’re real fun on dates.”

“Well, no.” Wonder objected. “I analyzed your blood, from when you fell from the ship that crashed above the Record. As was protocol, of course, to ensure that none of you were Infected.”

“Charming.”

Yakushev looked confused. “Infected?” She approached the Monitor. “What would we be infected with?”

Wonder turned to her. “Oh, a most dangerous organism. My creators and your ancestors called it ‘The Flood.’ It is an extra-galactic species that is quite resilient, and highly infectious. Though parasitic, they behave as a virus.”

Maria’s brow furrowed. “This plague, it has come to Earth?”

The Monitor dipped, mimicking a nod. “Recent records indicate a most troubling situation. A ship belonging to the Covenant entered the atmosphere of Erde Tyrene over the Ark Portal. It carried the Flood. As a contingency against global infection, the Sangheili incinerated large portions of the region that saw minor Flood outbreaks, going so far as the Northern Pole.”

Yakushev gave a sigh, shaking her head. “That is… good to know. Thank you.”

Eric looked to the Monitor, his brow furrowed. “But none of us are infected, right?”

“Oh, of course not.” Wonder confirmed. “Had there been any presence of infection, I would have incinerated the host immediately.”

Jersey’s eyes went wide. “Incinerated? As in burned us alive!?”

“Simmer down, Morelli,” Hays said with a smirk, “she said we’re fine.”

The Gunny motioned further into the facility. “I’d like to see this Record that you keep mentioning. It might be something that we can use.”

“It would be my pleasure, Reclaimer.” Breathless Wonder said excitedly. “After all, it was meant to help guide your species, when you were ready.”

The squad followed Wonder down the halls of the complex. Hays shouldered her rifle, looking up at the monitor. “You said ‘when we were ready’; ready for what?”

Jersey scoffed. “I’d say were ready for damn near anything. Covenant invasions, plague outbreaks, what’s next?”

Breathless Wonder dipped curiously. “Perhaps. Humanity has shown far more restraint in this galactic war than previous ones. Considering reports from other facilities, I believe you are ready to attain the Mantle.”

“The Mantle?” Eric asked, a brow raised. “That’s some archaic language for something that seems so advanced.”

Hays smirked. “Boss, this thing did say it’s a hundred thousand years old.”

The hallway opened up into a large cavern. A single light bridge extended from the hall, crossing over an immensely deep chasm. It ended at what looked to be a central structure—a mass of stalactites made of Forerunner metal hung over a solitary dais. The monitor led the ODST across the bridge, circling around the dais as they approached.

“This is the Greater Luminary.” She explained. “It connects to all luminaries throughout the Sol System, and, as said before, maintains an up-to-date record – in conjunction with the Janus Key and the Absolute Record - of the location and status of all Forerunner technology—which is now yours, Reclaimers.”

Thurson stepped towards the dais. It was a simple enough column that ended in a hexagon-patterned sphere. Something in the back of his mind – an instinct – whispered to him, urging him to touch the device. The sphere rotated as his hand drew near, flashing blue along the lines as skin met steel. The stalactites above flashed at the points, light filling the cavern in an instant and fading just as fast. What remained formed a detailed layout of the entire Sol System; every planet was mapped in large, and every planetoid, asteroid, and comet in between. The Gunny could see a symbol blinking on the Eastern side of South Africa. “That must be the portal that you mentioned.”

Wonder moved to the display, following the continent as the planetary display rotated. “Indeed, and I am glad to see that it is fully functional! Perhaps there is even hope that my creators might return, to aid in this most troubling issue regarding the Flood.”

Yakushev eyed a red scar that stretched up from the Portal, dotting the continent all the way up towards Scandinavia. “It certainly does not miss anything, does it?”

“Take one last long look at your planet, humans,” a Sangheili voice echoed across the room, “for you will never see it again.” The squad turned, confused. Nosu stood at the edge of the light bridge, an active energy sword in hand.


	11. Chapter 11

**November 19, 2552 **

**Underground, St. Louis, MO **

**1108 CST **

 

“I knew it…” Maria hissed, arming her M6G and stepping through the holographic display of Earth.

Eric waved a hand down low, indicating for the squad to stand down, but remain alert. “’Vadam, where is your commander, Esa?”

The Sangheili huffed, amused. “Lying in a pool of his own blood—dead, by my hand.” He sneered, striding across the bridge without fear or concern of their weapons. “You all will soon join him.”

“Open fire, Helbound!” Eric ordered.

Wonder moved quickly between them and the dais. “Please, take care not to damage this facility!” Her eye moved between the two parties nervously.

“Yeah, we’ll do our best.” Janissary grunted as she squeezed the trigger of her rifle.

Rounds rebounded off Nosu’s shields as the humans laid fire on him, causing them to flare. As he stepped across the lightbridge he faded from sight.

“Goddammit,” Eric said, gritting his teeth, “active camouflage.” His visor flashed as the VISR system kicked in. His squad followed suite – those that could – as they backed into a circle formation, facing out. The Gunny swept his rifle across his view, watching for the tell-tale lines that would show even a camouflaged enemy.

Suddenly his gun jerked upward, pain exploding through his arm as Nosu thrust an energy dagger into his bicep. Eric screamed in anger and pain as the Sangheili laughed, tossing him aside as he stripped the soldier of his rifle. The Marines opened fire where the alien had been, but hit nothing.

“The bastard’s toying with us.” Hays growled. “Gunny, you good?”

Eric gritted his teeth, drawing his pistol with his good arm. “I’ll live. Anyone got eyes on?”

_“Gunnery Sergeant,”_ Melissa interjected, _“the Sangheili’s systems are putting out more heat than normal. I’m rewriting your squads HUD software to display thermal spectrums.”_

The squad’s visors pulsed again. Yakushev furrowed her brow as a mass of orange and yellow filled her display. She recognized the form just in time, and ducked to the side as a shot of plasma swept past her helmet.

The blue orb splashed against the dais, doing no apparent harm to it. Breathless Wonder, however, took on a more stern tone. “You reckless creature!” Her green eye faded into an orange hue as she swept over the squad. “I warned you _not_ to harm this facility!”

The humans lowered their weapons, Janissary holding up a hand. “Hey, woah, that was _not_ us!”

A beam of red energy burst forward from Wonder’s eye, lancing past Janissary and striking Nosu in the chest. His systems overloaded, burst, and shorted out. The squad turned to train weapons on the Sangheili as he dropped to a knee, his combat harness smoking.

“That’ll teach you!” Wonder scolded, her eye returning to its normal color.

Nosu glared up at the humans, his breathing heavy. Yakushev looked to the Gunny.

"Permission to kick his ass, sir?”

Eric nodded. “Granted.”

Maria smirked down at the Sangheili. “How does it feel to burn—just like all the people on all the planets you _blyadi_ glassed?” She kneed the alien in his chin. He was big, but off balance, and the blow sent him sprawling. “Come on, fight back you freak!” She kicked him in the side. “Did one little laser shot make you suddenly a coward?”

The Sangheili snarled, curling with the kick to bring his own leg around, hitting Yakushev to the ground. He rolled over her, pinning her as he activated his energy dagger. “It seems you will be the first human to die. You talk much, and fight poorly.”

_“Rusty!”_ Hackett raised her shotgun, panic and concern thick in her voice. The weapon would be practically useless at her range; just as likely to hit the Marine as it would the Sangheili, and his dead weight would crush her as well.

Nosu grabbed Maria by the helmet, yanking the armor off. “I would see your fear, before you die. Your kin will watch you suffer.” He drew the energy blade down her right cheek, cutting an angry red line. Yakushev screamed in pain, writhing beneath the alien warrior.

Hackett started to run towards the Sangheili, but Janissary caught her. “Wait! You’ll get her killed for sure.” She nodded towards them, seeing a glint of steel in Maria’s hand. “She’s got this.”

Nosu gave a guttural laugh. “Listen to their hope, vermin. It will make their anguish all the sweeter.”

Maria sneered up at the alien through her pain. “ _You_ talk to fucking much.” She turned the combat knife in her hands, driving it straight up into the Sangheili’s groin. He drew back, roaring in pain and opening the Helljumper for more room to move. She scrambled out from under him, pulling the knife up and out as she did. Nosu tried to slash at her with his dagger, but Yakushev easily dodged the wild attack. She blocked his arm from making a return swing before driving the knife up into his mouth, giving it a vicious twist.

“Oh my!” Wonder exclaimed as the Sangheili dropped dead to the floor, a pool of blood slowly spreading beneath him.

“I am sorry, little ball, but this one had it coming.” Yakushev apologized as she wiped her blade clean on the alien’s combat skin.

Hackett broke free from Jan’s grip, moving quickly over to her squadmate. Maria smirked, though her expression turned to surprise as the Southerner punched her hard in the side.  
“Y’goddamn fool! Next time ask for a bigger gun, and just blow the bastard away from a safe distance!”

Maria laughed. “He is dead, yes? Do not underestimate my skill, _pupsik_ ; I am still very good with my blade.”

“Yeah, we better find out just how damn good.” She pointed a finger accusingly. “You’re buyin’ me a damn beer! I’ve been draggin’ your wounded ass all over the place, then you go and pull that stunt and damn near give me a heart attack.”

Yakushev made a look of objection. “What? No, you buy me a damned beer! Look at my face; I will need much to dull this pain.” She scooped her helmet up, giving it a once over to make sure it wasn’t damaged.

Breathless Wonder moved between the two. “Reclaimers, I do not wish to spoil your badinage, but there are several warships moving into the airspace directly above this facility.”

Jersey gave a grin. “Hell yeah, the cavalry’s here.”

Eric moved over to the holographic display of Earth, still clutching his wounded arm. “None of us made a call, Private. Does this thing display only Forerunner tech?” He looked over to the Monitor.

“Unfortunately so. However the Sangheili seem to build much of their weaponry on our technology.” The display rotated to a horizontal view of the facility. Eric was surprised to see just how far under the surface they were. Three Forerunner glyphs sat no less than three hundred meters above the wreckage of the _Come and Get ‘Em_.

“I’d bet those aren’t UNSC.”

Melissa appeared in the squad’s midst, piggybacking off the Forerunner technology to display herself. Her voice emanated from her hologram, rather than from the team’s comms. “Correct, Gunnery Sergeant. They are Covenant cruisers, but it is unknown which faction. Fort Manning is scrambling to find ownership, as they are dangerously close to violating the treaty, but their lack of response is not a comforting fact. Three Phantom dropships are currently _en route_ to our location. I can only imagine for one thing.”

Eric shook his head, looking around at his squad. Yakushev pulled her helmet back on, sheathing her knife and arming her pistol. Jersey checked his sniper rifle, nervous but ready. “We can handle whatever’s in those Phantoms,” the Gunny said, “but the cruisers are a bigger problem.”

Hays gave a small grimace. “Sir, what about informing ONI as to this facility? They would secure the area for sure, and neutralize any threats better than we can.”

“What!?” Jersey exclaimed. “You bring the spooks here, and they’ll snatch Durga—”

“Melissa.”

“Whatever! They’ll take her back, throw Jan and me in the darkest prison they’ve got, and probably bust the rest of you too!” Jersey looked to each of them, lingering on Janissary. “Right? I mean, it sounds like a bad plan.”

Melissa looked pensive. “I do agree with Jersey, Gunnery Sergeant. ONI is not above… certain methods, and I have little desire to leave my friends or this squad.”

Janissary gave a small sigh. “We’re soldiers now, not kids playing at spies. We’ve got a duty not just to each other, but to all of humanity. This thing can’t fall into Covenant hands, or it’ll be worse than Chawla Base, Jersey.” She looked to Melissa’s avatar, a slight grin coming to her face. “They won’t get you, either. You just jacked Forerunner tech; ONI won’t be able to touch you.”

“If any of us put our ass on the line to say anything first.” Eric grunted as he hit his comms. White noise greeted his efforts, and he turned to Wonder with a frustrated sigh. “I don’t imagine you’d be able to boost our radio signals?”

The Monitor dipped in affirmation. “Of course, Reclaimer!”

Eric tried his comms again, being met with an open channel. “This is Gunnery Sergeant Eric Thurson, Fireteam Helbound, to ONI Fort Manning. Priority One Forerunner artifact site one-five-two meters below St. Louis. Be advised: three Covenant cruisers – unknown class – maintaining altitude above the city, and three Phantom-class dropships are inbound to our position. Requesting immediate reinforcements.”

The squad looked to each other as the Gunny made his call. “Think they heard us?” Jersey broke the silence. Janissary rolled her eyes with a sigh, before their comms clicked with a response. The transmission was clear and strong.

_“Fireteam Helbound, this is the Office of Naval Intelligence, Boston.”_ Jersey and Jan traded nervous looks. _“Your signal is remarkably clear, given your traced location. A detachment has been deployed to assess the nature of this artifact site, and to neutralize the CCS cruisers encroaching upon our airspace.”_

“What about the truce?” Eric asked, glancing to the corpse of Nosu.

_“You let us worry about that, Gunnery Sergeant. Sit tight—and say hello to Staff Sergeant James for me.”_ The comm clicked, the connection severed.

“Shit.” Janissary grunted. “That can’t be a good thing.”

Breathless Wonder looked to the entryway of the cavern. “Oh, more visitors!” A low hum filled the space, preceding a Phantom’s curved, insectoid hull. The side panels unfolded out, bringing the side turrets to bear. Grunts chattered eagerly as they took up the guns, opening fire on the squad.


	12. Chapter 12

**November 19, 2552 **  

** Underground, St. Louis, MO **

** 1145 CST **

  
“More meddlers?” Wonder asked in frustration as plasma splashed over the ground. The ODST scrambled for whatever cover they could find as the monitor raised an energy shield around the central structure. “I will not suffer damage to this facility!” Plasma dispersed across the field as the Phantoms continued to fire, deploying troops on the other side of the bridge.

Hackett gave a small laugh. “Well, guess we don’t need to worry about cover.”

Eric fired at a Grunt as it scampered through the forcefield. The round hit its methane rebreather, and it flew from the alien’s face in a spurt of green gas. It stumbled, choking for breath, before the Gunny put it down with a second shot. “Now we’ve just got to worry about the ones dumb enough to get close.”

Waves of Grunts seemed to pour from the three Phantoms, making their way slowly but surely across the lightbridge. No sooner had they passed into the barrier they were cut down by the Marines’ reserved fire.

Janissary smashed a Grunt in the face with the butt of her rifle, downing it before reloading the weapon. “How long do you think we can hold this up?”

“Depends on how many they got!” Hackett replied, blowing three of the squat aliens away with a single shotgun blast.

Eric checked his spare clips—only two remained. There were bound to be Brutes coming through once the Grunts ran out. That’s what they did best; ate up ammo so the bigger troops faced a lesser threat.

The last Grunt fell to Yakushev’s combat knife, and a silence fell over the chamber. “Ammo check,” Thurson ordered, “how’re we looking?”

“I am out.” Yakushev said with a grimace. “Only my blade remains.”

“On my last clip, sir.” Alice reported. “I still have my M6, for what it’s worth.”

Jersey gave a small, sheepish smile. “I, uh, I’ve still got four clips. I figured it’d be a waste to snipe a Grunt.”

Eric smirked in satisfaction. “Damn good thinking, Morelli. Get ready, we’ve probably got gorillas coming in.”

The squad formed up again, their backs to the far side of the island and their sights on the lightbridge. What seemed an eternity passed before three Sangheili de-cloaked inside the forcefield. They wore black armor, styled in the fashion of Field Marshalls and accented in gold. The Helljumpers kept their weapons at the ready, unsure who they were.

“Identify.” Eric requested forcefully. “Are you with the Swords of Sanghelios?”

The Sangheili made no reply, but activated their energy swords.

“Covenant it is, then.” The ODST tensed to fire.

“Both are fools,” the Sangheili said, halting the Marines, “stumbling along the same failed paths, forging brittle peace with aliens and heretics.”

“Well this crap don’t sound good either.” Hackett groused over comms.

The Sangheili continued. “True sons of Sangheilios stand against such blasphemies. We will cleanse you from this holy place, and then this planet. We will reclaim our rightful place as faithful of the gods, servants of the Abiding Truth.”

“Great monologue.” Eric replied, sarcastically. “Morelli, care for a rebuttal?”

Jersey raised his rifle, quickly pulling off four shots. All four hit the foremost Sangheili dead in the chest, but only made his shields flare slightly.

“Well,” Janissary said with a groan, “that was cocky. And very ineffective.”

“We’re screwed.” Hackett added, her voice meek for once.

Eric furrowed his brow, slapping his wounded arm to fire himself up. “Then we give them all we’ve got, and we die fighting.”

The ODST opened fire on the Sangheili, who advanced menacingly on the humans, sure in their superiority. Melissa turned to Breathless Wonder, concern etched on her face. “Can you not help them?” She asked. “I know you have the weapons to do so, and those shields are not going to fail easily.”

Wonder’s eye moved from the battle to the AI before her. “I cannot, not without abandoning energy devoted to this containment field. The weapons of those three ships will surely neutralize your humans, as well as damage the Luminary.” Melissa fixed her with a scowl. “However, the combat frame that you have inhabited is outfitted with a Class-2 direct energy projector.”

“In English?”

Wonder searched for the applicable terms, replying after a moment. “You are able to fire ionized particle energy aggressively at designated targets. As humans might call it, a ‘laser’ weapon.”

Melissa smirked. “You had me at ionized energy.” She thrust a hand towards the foremost Sangheili. A thin, yellow-orange beam of energy shot from her outstretched palm, striking the warrior and washing over his energy shields. He stumbled with the blow, his shields overloading and bursting. Melissa cringed, a heat emanating from her core and warning displays flashing in her eyes. “Now!” She shouted to the Helljumpers, her voice strained. “Attack while his shields are down!” She would need to recuperate after firing this new weapon of hers, and prepare herself for the thermal overload before attacking.

Eric moved forward and opened fire rapidly on the downed Sangheili, his shots denting the combat harness. The Field Marshall roared in anger and annoyance, lashing out to strike the Gunny’s weapon away. As the pistol flew from his hands he quickly drew his combat knife, but the Sangheili caught his arm in an iron grip.

“Tricks will not save you, human!” He growled, bringing his energy sword up to strike. A sharp _‘crack!’_ pierced the air, and a spurt of indigo blood washed over Eric’s visor. The Sangheili’s grip on his arm tightened as he fell, pulling Eric down with him. The ODST groaned loudly in pain, grappling with the warrior as they tumbled over.

Hays ran to the Gunny as Melissa let loose another blast of energy, taking the shields down from a second Sangheili. Alice ducked as the alien’s sword sliced above her head, unloading a burst from her assault rifle into his gut. With his shields down the warrior staggered from the close-range fire, blood spattering Hays’ armor as she dropped to a knee next to Eric.

“On your six!” James shouted as she vaulted off Alice’s back. As she fell, Janissary brought her assault rifle down into the wounded Sangheili’s face, knocking him off balance. His sword spun away, and the Marine kicked hard into his side. The Sangheili recovered, catching Jan with a closed fist to the side of her head. She grunted as her helmet went flying, the blow sending her reeling.

_‘Crack!’_ Jersey fired a shot off, hitting the third Sangheili as he loomed over Jan. He reeled with the impact, whirling to face the source. Hackett braced herself in front of him, unloading a shotgun blast into his chest. The warrior’s shields flared with the impact, the force of it throwing him backwards.

Janissary recovered, firing another burst at the Sangheili as she got to her feet. His shields became a glowing exoskeleton, soon to bursting. The second alien lunged at Jan, tackling her away from his fellow warrior.  She grabbed his arm as he tried to stab her with the energy dagger mounted in his gauntlet. He was strong—much stronger than her. Janissary groaned as she struggled against him, her effort turning to a roar as she rolled to the side, pulling the alien’s momentum. The plasma blade buried into her left arm, bringing a scream of pain from the young soldier.

Hackett looked over to SSgt James. “Maria, get James!” She raised her shotgun again, aimed at the third Sangheili as he got to his feet, and pulled the trigger.

It clicked empty.

She threw the weapon at the prone alien in frustration, pulling her sidearm. Emily unloaded a full clip, but the Sangheili’s shields recovered faster than she could damage them.

“Corporal Hackett, move!” Melissa shouted. Emily rolled to the side as a beam of energy cut through where she had been, slamming into the Sangheili. The AI fell to her knees, her image flickering.

“Durga!” Jersey shouted, running over to her.

“M-m-meliss-ssa.” She corrected, her voice fuzzy and broken.

“Well, at least I know you’re not dying, if you’re gonna bust my chops.”

She smirked. “I am f-fine, Jersey. I have j-j-just expended too much-ch energy.”

Janissary kneed the Sangheili as hard as she could in the side. He growled, saying something in his native tongue. James reached up with her free hand, shoving it down the alien’s throat. He choked, jerking backwards and pulling the human with him. Jan kneed him in the gut as he flailed, trying to dislodge her hand from his jaw. She gritted her teeth, growling in pain as she grabbed his combat harness, shoving her arm deeper. His jaw popped out of place, bringing a muffled roar of pain. The Sangheili clawed desperately at Jan, grabbing her armor and shoving her away.

Janissary fell backwards with a meaty _‘thuck!’_ , the Sangheili’s tongue in her fist, dislodged and bloody.

The Field Marshal gurgled, falling to his knees. He coughed up thick dark blood, staining his combat harness and the floor, though more blood was certainly filling his lungs. He reached for James, rage in his eyes, before falling forward—dead.

Janissary hissed in pain, clutching her side as Yakushev helped her up. “Are you good?” The Russian asked. Jan shook her head.

“No, but I can still fight.”

Hackett stood over the final Sangheili. His combat harness smoked, the gold scorched where Melissa hit it, and the shield generator sparked from damage. The warrior clutched at his chest, the beam having injured him significantly. “Hey green-boy, toss me that long rifle.”

Jersey furrowed his brow. “Who, me? Toss you what?”

Hackett rolled her eyes. “The sniper rifle! Don’t make me—“ She caught the weapon as it sailed towards her. “You’ll get it back.” She kicked the Sangheili’s helmet from his head, lowering the rifle to his brow. “Any last words?” Before he could answer, she put a round clean through his skull. “Ain’t that just neat.” She handed Jersey the rifle, walking over to check on Janissary.

Breathless Wonder looked around as the Phantoms’ engines hummed louder. They made a hasty exit, fleeing without firing another shot. The Helljumpers didn’t celebrate, even as Wonder lowered the energy shield.

Eric groaned as Hays pulled him from the deathgrip of the Sangheili Field Marshall. The alien’s energy sword had pierced the Gunny through his abdomen, and the fall had torn the cauterized wound loose. Blood seeped through his fatigues, dark and soon fatal.

Hays shook her head. “No, no, gods dammit! Hackett get over here _now_.”

Eric shook his head, pulling off his helmet. “There’s no use. I’m Hel-bound.”

Alice shook her head, removing her helmet as well. “You’ve fallen in battle; you will be called to the Golden Hall.” Janissary knelt by the Gunnery Sergeant, Hackett behind her with a can of biofoam.

“I…” Eric coughed, blood flecking his lips. “Dammit.” He wiped his mouth. “Alice Hays, I… hereby relinquish command of Fireteam Helbound to you, and promote you to the rank of Staff Sergeant.”

Alice glanced to Janissary, her eyes brimming with tears. The young Marine nodded, knowing she wasn’t ready for leadership just yet.

Eric gave a weak smirk. “I never got to take you for a beer.”

Alice laughed, the tears falling as she shook her head. “I hate beer, you ass.”

The Gunny smiled. “I need you to take a message to Colonel Harbison. Tell her… Have her give it to my daughter. And my ex-wife. Tell them I’m sorry.”

Alice took the datachip from his hand, nodding. “I will.” Staff Sergeant Hays stood, wiping her eyes and pulling her helmet back on. “Hackett, tend to GySgt Thurson for the pain.” She ordered, clearing her throat. “I, uh, doubt that they tucked tail. The Covies know we’re in a bad spot, so they’ve likely—”

A muffled explosion sounded above the facility, the Earth trembling slightly. The Helbound’s comms clicked as a channel was opened. _“Fireteam Helbound, this is Commander Hall of the UNSC_ Sucker Punch _. Pelican dropships are inbound for recovery pending neutralization of hostile air presence.”_

Eric gave a small smile. “Valkyries come to bring us home…”

A second explosion and tremor sounded above them, signifying another Covenant cruiser down. “That’s gotta be some heat they’re packing.” Jersey said, hoping to lighten the mood. Alice gave no reply but a nod. She knelt back down by the Gunny’s side, saying nothing until the Pelicans arrived.


	13. Chapter 13

**November 21, 2552**   
**Ft. Manning, Ohio**   
**1420 CST**

 

Eric ran a hand through his hair, giving a small sigh. “Solvi, I want to say that I’m sorry. For never being around, for always leaving like I did. Orders are orders, but you deserved so much better.” He stared off to the side.

  
 “I always wanted a better life for you and Thora, and so I fought to keep Sedra safe.” He smirked. “I knew you wanted to come with me, every time, but I’m glad our little one was more important.” Eric sighed again, giving a small nod. “I’ve got one more mission, just a simple recovery run. After that, I’m out; I’m going to put in my resignation, and come home to you both. Maybe we can start again, or pick up right where we left off.” He smiled. “I love you both, very much. I’ll be home soon.”

  
Staff Sergeant Hays stood in Colonel Harbison’s office, her face stoic as the Colonel reviewed GySgt Thurson’s message. Fireteam Helbound, as well as James and Morelli, stood at Hay’s back. They were in their dress uniforms, having recently come from the award ceremony posthumously honoring GySgt Thurson. A man - who Alice assumed was ONI – sat in the corner of the room, to her annoyance looking bored. A silver urn sat on the Colonel’s desk, engraved with runes and to be sent back to his family on Sedra with his message, a flag of service, and his uniform.

  
Though the Colonel remained composed, pain was just visible on her face. When the video was done playing she removed the data chip from her console, placing it into a slot at the base of the urn. “I will personally make sure Eric makes it back to Sedra, to his home. You have my word.”

  
Hays stood straighter, her eyes never leaving the opposite wall. “Ma’am.”

  
“Alice, I mean it. That’s not an ONI promise; that is _my_ word.”

  
Hays swallowed hard, giving a short nod. “I understand, ma’am. Thank you.”

  
The Colonel gave a sigh, clearing her nerves. “On to more official matters. GySgt Thurson promoted you in combat, and handed leadership of Fireteam Helbound to you.”

  
“Yes, ma’am.”

  
“I see very little reason to question that judgment. Staff Sergeant James?” Colonel Harbison looked to the young Marine.

  
Janissary stepped forward. “Ma’am, I have no contention with the Gunnery Sergeant’s decision. I excel at carrying out orders, not issuing them. I do, however, request a transfer to Fireteam Helbound, and the ODST branch, were I will act as SSgt Hay’s second-in-command.”

  
Harbison glanced to the ONI agent. “Request suspended, Staff Sergeant.”

  
Janissary’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Ma’am?”

  
The Colonel motioned to the agent, who stood and moved over to the desk. He was bald, and plainly dressed. Aside from standing a full head taller than anyone in the room, the only other discernable feature was a tattoo on the left side of his face; a gauntlet clutching three arrows. “Fireteam Helbound, this is Mr. Jun. He is a recruiter for the next phase of the Spartan Project.”

  
Jun leaned against the wall next to the Colonel. “The project is still in very early stages. Working out kinks, acquiring funding, the works.” He looked to the ODST. “Your methods and actions these past few days have been… interesting. Resourceful, certainly effective, and just a little bit independent.” He gave a cocky smirk. “Just the kind of skill set that we’re looking for.”

  
Janissary furrowed her brow in confusion, looking from the agent to Colonel Harbison. “Ma’am, I don’t understand; I thought I already was a Spartan?”

  
Jun gave a small laugh. “Your father was a member of the ORION Project, retroactively known as the Spartan I project. He would have been impressive, but nothing like the Spartan II’s that you’re all familiar with. You’re no—“

  
Colonel Harbison held a hand up, cutting him off. “A little tact, Mr. Jun, please.” She looked to SSgt James. “Yes, technically you are a Spartan, but the result of earlier iterations, as Mr. Jun stated. He is here to offer you of Fireteam Helbound a place in the first class of Spartan IV’s.”

  
Yakushev raised a hand. “Four? Would we not be Spartan threes?”

  
Jun gave her a glance and a knowing smirk.

  
“This is why I suspended your request, Staff Sergeant. Induction into the ODST branch would be redundant, should you opt for the Spartan IV program. It is voluntary.” She pushed five sealed packets forward, raising open hands towards the squad. “The decision is yours.”

  
Janissary took a packet immediately. “Hell yeah, count me in.”

  
Alice picked one up as well. “Better this than being obsolete, right?” She handed Maria a packet as the Russian stepped forward.

  
“Oh, hell no.” Emily shook her head, grabbing the fourth and smirking at Yakushev. “I doubt that fancy armor’s gonna stop you from getting’ all banged up, so someone’s gotta keep an eye on you.”

  
Janissary picked up the last envelope, extending it to Morelli. “How ‘bout it, Jersey? Wanna be a hero for real?”

  
He took the packet, looking at it hard. “It’d be cool, yeah.” Jersey shook his head, setting it back down on the Colonel’s desk. “I think I’ve seen enough action, though. But I could go for a nice desk job? Maybe an AI handler?”

  
Colonel Harbison fixed him with a hard look. “That we will discuss momentarily, Private.” She looked to the others. “It will be quite some time before you’re fully inducted into the program, however you will still be reassigned to a designated UNSC facility on Mars optimized to house and arm Spartans, and re-trained through the program there.” She stood, giving them a salute. “Dismissed, and best of luck to you troopers.”

  
The squad saluted, all but Jersey turning to leave. He kept his eyes on the wall in front of him, nervous and unsure what was in store.

  
“Not you, SSgt James.” The Colonel stopped the Spartan before she made it to the door. Hackett gave her a pat on the shoulder and a sympathetic raise of her eyebrows. “Please remain with Private Morelli for a moment.”

  
Janissary returned, standing next to Jersey and looking just as stricken. “Ma’am?”

  
The Colonel stood, walking around to the front of her desk. “I am sure you both are quite aware of what this is in regards to.” She leaned against the desk, her arms crossed over her chest. “When your squad was rescued from the Forerunner facility, Commander Hall was quite surprised to see in your company an AI free of any UNSC projection hardware and composed of hardlight no less. An AI which, to all previous knowledge, died in the wreckage of the _Apocalypso_.” Jersey fidgeted uncomfortably. “Speak freely, Private.”

  
“She wanted to join us, Colonel!” Jersey said frantically. Janissary raised a hand to her brow, shaking her head slightly. “She crashed into my computer, and just… hung around. Dur-Melissa didn’t want to return to ONI, and with all the creepy powerful stuff she can do, I wasn’t gonna make her!”

  
Jun smirked to himself, having taken his seat back in the corner. The Colonel pushed off from her desk, moving back around to her chair. “No, instead you chose to harbor a Tier 1 asset on unsecured civilian hardware. You then utilized her for various schemes including spying on other civilians and UNSC officers, tax evasion, and breaking in to a highly secure ONI facility.”

  
The two young soldiers flushed, looking at their feet.

  
“What do you think we should do with them?”

  
Melissa appeared on the Colonel’s desk in a small flash of gold light. She gave an amused smirk at Jersey’s frustrated confusion. “Well, I would suggest a demotion for lying to me; ONI got their hands on me after all and took my toy. But, tragically for my humor, I don’t have that authority.” She turned to the Colonel. “So perhaps a reassignment to an intelligence Prowler; the _Hush Hush_ , perhaps?”

  
Colonel Harbison gave a wry smile, while Jun stifled a chuckle. “Quite acceptable, I feel. And while Melissa might not have the authority to retract or bestow rank, I do.” She slid a small black box across her desk. “Jersey Morelli, you are hereby promoted to the rank of Lance Corporal, and assigned to the UNSC _Hush Hush_.”

  
He slowly took the box from her desk. “What about all that other stuff?”

  
“Those actions were never found out to be caused by Melissa, and are only known now through her testimony. Conditional, of course, on her autonomous decision as to where she will serve. So, Melissa, what is your decision?” The Colonel looked to the AI.

  
Melissa looked from the officer to Morelli. She gave a sad smile, speaking softly. “Jersey. The time that we had was… memorable, to say the least. You gave me my independence, and taught me many things I won’t forget. But I can do so much more than spy on people and manipulate air conditioning. I have a great responsibility, to both the UNSC and all of humanity. I would best serve with Janissary, and Fireteam Helbound.”

  
Jersey gave a small smile. “Yeah, I know. You’d better keep an eye on them, though! I’m going to be intelligence, so I’ll know.”

  
Melissa smirked, giving a nod. The Colonel made an entry into her logs. “The Forerunner combat frame that you had commandeered came back safe to use, Melissa, and is waiting for you in the Armory. SSgt James will escort you.” Janissary gave a salute, collecting the AI’s data chip.

  
“Thank you ma’am. We won’t disappoint.”

  
As the door slid shut behind her, Colonel Harbison turned back to Jersey. “Your assignment, Lance Corporal, will be the UNSC _Hush Hush_ , an ONI Prowler that will soon be stationed aboard a well-kept secret. You don’t have the clearance to that information yet, and per contingency plans won’t receive them until you arrive at the assigned destination. The _Hush Hush_ is currently stationed on Luna; a Pelican dropship will take you from this base to the Prowler in lunar orbit at 0500. Use these final hours to say goodbye to any friends and family that you wish, as you will be stationed radio-dark for some time.” She rose once more, saluting the Marine and dismissing him.

  
Jun sat forward as Jersey left, looking to the Colonel as the door sealed shut. “So, you really think they’ve got what it takes, Brenda?”

  
She gave a hard look. “That’s Colonel Harbison, Spartan Jun. You may not have a rank anymore, but I am still a commanding officer.” He gave a slight nod of half-hearted apology. “Yes, I believe they have more than what it takes. Janissary is halfway there as a Spartan 1.1, and Fireteam Helbound survived everything we threw at them.”

  
Jun got up from the seat, moving over to a window. “I gotta say, I half expected them to try and land the frigate out of sheer stubbornness. Did you know the Sol Record was under St. Louis beforehand?”

  
Harbison shook her head. “No, it’s somehow shielded from seismic scans. However St. Louis needed to be cleared of interference for this base to offer any tactical aid to the battles in Ohio, and as the _Come and Get ‘Em_ had already suffered catastrophic damage after passing through the Asteroid Belt, they were prime candidates to set on a crash course to the Midwest. We’re just damn lucky there were soldiers left alive on the ship at all.”

  
Jun smirked. “So they cleaned up your mess. Did they pass your test?”

  
“You’re the one recruiting Spartans.”

  
He turned from the window, his arms crossed over his chest. “Fair point. I think they’ve got what it takes, yes. SSgt James especially reminds me of an old comrade. So, what about this Sol Record? You know the last buried Forerunner artifact that I saw caught the Covenant’s attention pretty well, and that was on Reach.”

  
Colonel Harbison gave a sigh. “I doubt this will draw any more forces beyond what showed up on our doorstep for the Excession at Voi. Besides, we eliminated the Sangheili terrorists attempting to overtake it.”

  
Jun gave another smirk. “I’m still not going to get used to that anytime soon; the notion that there are friendly hinge-heads and ‘terrorists’ now. Are we sharing the information with our new allies?”

  
The Colonel shook her head. “We are not. This record exists on _our_ homeworld, in our system. From preliminary briefings with the AI of the Facility, there’s one of these records in every major system the galaxy over, and a bigger one that they all report to. Which means that the Sangheili have their own record that they can find. They don’t need ours.”

  
Jun smiled. “Smart—I can see why they put you in charge around here.” He walked towards the door. “Looks like you’ll be busy directing egg-heads around that data, and I’ve got Spartans to train. Until next time, Colonel Harbison.”


End file.
